


The Coming of the Golden Age

by fifty_fifty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (but only for 1 scene), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Battle, Blow Jobs, Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Canon Era, Established Relationship, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Magic Ban Lifted (Merlin), Magic Revealed, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Post-Magic Reveal, Public Blow Jobs, Roundtable Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Magic, Switching, Top Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifty_fifty/pseuds/fifty_fifty
Summary: With King Uther dead, the moment Merlin has been waiting for is finally here: Arthur is king. But his and Arthur's relationship isn't the only thing that's heating up, and with the threat of war on one side and social unrest on the other, some big changes are in store for Camelot – whether they like it or not.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 82
Kudos: 295
Collections: Merthur Glompfest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silklace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silklace/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [silklace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silklace/pseuds/silklace) in the [Merthur_Glompfest_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Merthur_Glompfest_2020) collection. 



> Silklace, I don't know that this has really stuck to your prompt as much as you might have hoped. The boys kind of ran riot with your initial idea, so it's a bit of an amalgamation of your idea and sits between Arthur being prince and Merlin and Arthur running the kingdom the kingdom together. I hope that's okay, and I hope that you enjoy this gift to you. Thank you for supporting the fandom and fanworks, we appreciate you! ♥
> 
> A HUGE HUGE thank you also goes out to the amazing [schweet_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart) who, yet again, has pulled off a minor miracle in betaing this monster fic and helping me to whip this story into something that makes sense. I have so indebted to you! As well as being an incredible, kind friend, she's also a fantastic writer and breath-taking artist, so check out her works! ♥
> 
> For reference, silklace's prompt was:
>
>> _I would just love anything smutty and established relationship. Like, something that just explores the sexual dynamics between them as they get into the groove of a relationship with each other, ideally with Arthur being aware of Merlin's powers. Maybe Merlin is still his servant and Uther is still alive and Arthur is Conflicted about a lot of things (power dynamics...Merlin being in danger of being burned at the stake by his father...u know...the usual relationship stressors...) but also like deeply, deeply horny for Merlin and can't keep his hands off him even perhaps when he Should. (like at a feast in alcove or something ugh). or maybe Arthur has ascended the throne and magic is legal and he and Merlin are, you know, extremely busy running the kingdom and drawing up a new word of the realm but also sneaking off to fuck in a broom closet all the time!_
>> 
>> _i kind want them to just not be able to stay away from each other._
>> 
>> _i have a slight preference for bottom!Merlin but can get into any dynamic there really; playing with more tender submission/dominance is fun and again have a slight preference for submissive!Merlin especially when they're younger but...Merlin having his king kneel at his feet would also be good so...praise kink and dirty talk are very welcome. squicks would be any kind of pain play or abuse._  
> 

As they entered their chambers, Arthur felt himself slump, the emotional weight of the day suddenly heavy on his shoulders. It had been a long day and he wasn’t sure he would have gotten through it if it weren’t for Merlin. His fingers fumbled, tired as he was, as he tried to undo his cape. Behind him, Merlin pulled the doors of the room closed and locked them with a firm twist of the key before he turned and his eyes took in Arthur. Merlin always had a way of looking at him that saw right past any facade or mask he wore, a way of seeing deep down inside of him, and half the time Arthur was grateful for it. At other times, he couldn’t bear it. 

Right now he could not bear the way that Merlin looked at him with such pity and sympathy. He turned away angrily, still trying and failing to release the buckle of his cape.

Merlin’s light, slow footsteps alerted Arthur to his approach, and his arms reached up around him. He batted Arthur’s hands away. 

“Let me do that,” he said softly.

“Don’t!” snapped Arthur, whirling away from him. He pushed aside his internal rage to finally get the damn buckle unfastened and ripped off his cape.

“Arthur…” began Merlin.

“I said, don’t,” repeated Arthur sternly. He grabbed the crown from his head and threw it on the bed. 

“Just…” said Merlin, “just let me help you.”

He continued to flit around Arthur, undoing his sword belt and discarding it on the nearby table, then reaching for the hem of his hauberk to help Arthur remove it.

Once his hauberk was off, Arthur felt almost like a new man. He rolled his shoulders appreciatively and closed his eyes as he sighed.

Merlin pressed a kiss against Arthur’s neck, his lips curved into a smile.

“There’s no need to act so pleased,” Arthur groused, eyes still closed as Merlin proceeded to divest him of his gambeson, leaving him in his undershirt and breeches.

He allowed himself to be manipulated onto the bed, and Merlin knelt to remove his boots and socks. That done, Merlin took Arthur’s hand and stared up at him, his eyes fierce with love and devotion. 

“Arthur,” he began. “I know that I couldn’t do this today, but I wanted you to know, all that I am, and everything I ever will be… And all that I do is for you.” He bent his head and kissed Arthur’s ring in a display of fealty, just as Arthur’s knights and court had done earlier.

Arthur tried to pull his hand away. “Merlin! That’s— You know that I don’t— You don’t need to—”

“I know,” said Merlin, holding on firmly. “I know I don’t have to. That you’ve not asked for it. That you’ll never ask for it, from me. But I want to. I want you to know. I want you to understand that you have always been and will always be my King.”

Arthur cupped Merlin’s chin with his hand and bent his head. “Then let us seal it like this,” he offered, giving Merlin a slow but chaste kiss.

Merlin responded instinctively, his lips moving to the rhythm Arthur set as he lifted Merlin up off of his knees. Merlin smiled into the kiss and pushed Arthur back onto the bed, climbing over top of him. As Arthur made to get up, Merlin broke the kiss and pushed him back onto the bed with a gentle, but firm hand to the chest. He stripped off Arthur’s shirt and kissed a trail from Arthur’s neck to his collarbones, then across his broad shoulders and chest. He paused for a moment to tease at a nipple with tongue and teeth as Arthur hissed and twisted beneath him, before continuing his apparent crusade to drive Arthur completely mad. 

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would have flipped their positions and taken charge of their little game. But he was tired, and really, all that he wanted at this moment was to be loved and taken care of. And he trusted Merlin to know not just what he wanted but also what he needed.

Clever hands smoothed their way over the planes of Arthur’s stomach and beneath the band of his breeches. Merlin pulled and tugged at the knot holding them together, cursing under his breath for a moment before Arthur’s breeches were suddenly gone altogether.

Arthur gasped, looking up at Merlin with surprise. His stomach lurched at the confirmation of something that, deep down, he had always known. There were too many coincidences. Too many stupid excuses that made no sense. Too many instances that were more than good luck... He’d told his father once that he felt as though he had someone watching over him, a guardian angel of sorts, and it had taken him longer than he would like to admit to come to the obvious conclusion that that person was Merlin. Clumsy, goofy, caring, loving Merlin, who was a bit of an idiot and not at all careful when it came to the blatant use of magic.

But this had been the most blatant display so far, and with the way Merlin was looking at him, with just the slightest hint of a proud grin and a tiny shrug, he didn’t seem to be apologetic about it in the slightest. Arthur’s cock twitched and he swallowed hard, and Merlin’s sharp eyes missed nothing. He grasped at Arthur’s cock and started to tug with a firm, determined hand, and Arthur’s thoughts began to blur, glad to have an excuse to push back an actual proper conversation on the subject for as long as possible.

Merlin pulled back at that point and started to tug off his own clothes. Arthur pushed himself up on his elbows and leered at him appreciately as that stupid neckerchief, the beat up old jacket, and the coarse blue shirt all came off. Merlin had always been attractive, at least in Arthur’s eyes, from when he’d first come to Camelot, all scrawny from country living and living hand-to-mouth, right up until he had finally grown into all his gangly limbs. Camelot’s plentiful food and all his lifting and carrying and sparring with Arthur and the knights had done the rest. 

At every stage, Merlin had definitely been a specimen to admire, and right now was no exception. He kicked off his boots and socks and then slipped his breeches down over his hips with ease. For all that Camelot had done for Merlin’s physique, Arthur reflected, he was still rather on the lean and slender side, and probably always would be what with all the rushing around he did. Even though Arthur liked to tease him and complain that Merlin was lazy, really nothing could be further from the truth.

Suddenly, he realised he was being watched in turn; Merlin frowned at him, a small, confused triangle forming on his forehead as he grappled with the knot holding up his smalls. 

“What?” he asked, his voice slightly tinged with annoyance.

“Nothing,” Arthur said, amused. Then after a beat he continued, “You can’t magic those gone, too?”

A look of understanding and realisation washed over Merlin’s face, and with a blink and flash of his eyes, his smalls were gone. Arthur bit back a gasp as he felt his cock jerk again, hard and untouched against his stomach. He hadn’t quite realised what seeing Merlin doing magic would do to him, and he hastened to move things back to more comfortable territory, smirking and cocking his eyebrow at Merlin’s naked form.

“ _What_?” Merlin asked again, this time more embarrassed and exasperated than annoyed.

Arthur’s smile softened. “Nothing.” He crooked his finger. “Come here.” 

Merlin came readily, kneeling over him on the bed. He pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips before pulling away again. But Arthur reached out and curved his fingers around the nape of Merlin’s neck, tangling with the soft curls there. He looked up, seeing all the promises and love reflected in Merlin’s eyes, and pulled him close for a longer, deeper kiss.

“Merlin,” he said hoarsely, as they finally broke from their kiss. “I wanted to thank you. For all that you’ve done for me, for Camelot. And for all that you’ll go on to do—”

“It’s easy when it’s for you,” interrupted Merlin. He smoothed a hand through Arthur’s hair and looked at him fondly. “I’d do anything for you. Sometimes, it scares me.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, Arthur wondering what exactly he could have done to deserve Merlin, and feeling a little brave, he was about to give that thought voice when Merlin pointedly cleared his throat.

“Look, are we going to do something about _this_ ,” he said cocking his head between them. “Or are we going to have heart-to-heart instead?”

“Hey!” said Arthur, batting him with his hand. “You’re the one complaining that I never want to talk about _feelings_.”

Merlin shook his head with faux-dismay. “And so you thought you’d choose _now_ as a good time to do it?”

“As good as any. Besides, you started it,” Arthur pointed out. “With all the kneeling and—”

Merlin hushed him the best way he knew how, as he tackled Arthur to the bed and pinned him down. But Arthur wasn’t about to lie back and let _Merlin_ domineer over him. No, siree. He narrowed his eyes at Merlin before pushing him over, and gave a delighted yell of victory as their roles were now reversed. 

“My, my, Merlin… How the tables have turned,” he crowed.

But before he could draw another breath, he was flat on his back, Merlin smirking triumphantly, his eyes golden as he sat astride him. Arthur tugged, trying to free his wrists from some kind of invisible bond.

“How indeed,” laughed Merlin. “Now, just stay still and let me attend to you, sire.”

Arthur struggled again, testing Merlin’s bonds, hoping to surprise him, but he was well and truly stuck. He huffed out a breath in frustration. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“That’s the spirit, my lord.”

Merlin got off the bed, and Arthur bit back a whimper. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the lack of control, the lack of decorum, the sheer... vulnerability of his position. And he didn’t like how damned turned on it was making him either. It was all rather… unexpected. And Arthur didn’t like things that were unexpected. But he did trust Merlin, with all that he had. So he willed his body to relax and wait for whatever it was that Merlin had planned. 

Merlin returned after what felt like an eternity, but was likely less than a minute. As he looked down at Arthur, he smiled tenderly. 

“Nice to see you can relax. If I let you go, will you promise to stay put?”

Opening his mouth to issue a denial, to tell Merlin that he was the _king_ and that he’d do what he liked, Arthur rapidly closed it again as he saw a sharp, fierce look dash across Merlin’s face. “Fine,” he settled on. “But only because I choose to.”

“Of course, sire.” Amusement coloured Merlin’s voice, and Arthur felt his cheeks flush, knowing that Merlin could see right through him. “Don’t be embarrassed,” Merlin said softly. “Everyone needs looking after every now and again. You need to let me look after you. Camelot needs you.”

“And Camelot needs _you_ , but you’ve been running yourself ragged these past few days. Don’t think I’ve not noticed,” argued Arthur.

Merlin shrugged nonchalantly and reached down next to him, grabbing a vial. “What is a servant, compared to a king?” he said as he uncorked the vial and poured it’s contents into his hands. He rubbed them together before smoothing them over Arthur’s shoulders.

Arthur’s lips curved, and he huffed out a laugh. “What on earth are you doing, Merlin?” he asked.

“Shh, I read about this in one of Gaius books.”

Raising an eyebrow, Arthur asked, “What kind of book does Gaius have that involves being naked with greasy hands?”

“You’d be surprised,” Merlin murmured, his focus on Arthur’s shoulder as he kneaded it in firm circular motions. “Now shh.”

Arthur let out a grunt at the bruising, painful feeling as Merlin pressed hard at a spot on his shoulder. He did his best to bite back a command for Merlin to stop this silly notion immediately, afraid that Merlin might be causing some kind of injury to his sword arm. 

“Relax,” Merlin whispered, his eyes flashing again as the atmosphere in the room grew darker and more intimate. Arthur blushed as his cock reacted yet again. He shut his eyes tight and breathed in and out deeply through his nose.

Just when the pain felt at its worst, it suddenly ceased and started to feel good instead. Arthur let out an appreciative moan, surprised that this might actually turn out to be something quite pleasurable after all. 

“Good?” Merlin asked.

“Mmm,” confirmed Arthur, as Merlin continued to rub and press at his shoulders. He found another painful spot that made Arthur hiss.

“Sorry, but the book says that massage applied hard and firm at the knotted muscles is the best way to bring relief. Why don’t you turn over?”

Arthur opened his eyes to peer at him, sure that Merlin had gone completely mad. Maybe it was the magic finally getting to him somehow, only instead of turning evil like so many other sorcerers, it was just making Merlin more _Merlinlike_ than ever.

With a roll of Merlin’s eyes, Arthur found himself face down on his own bed.

“Hey—!”

“Look. Just stop being so stubborn and let yourself relax, or you’ll be so stressed you’ll be of no use to anyone,” Merlin snapped. He pressed harder still for a second, before huffing out a laugh and planting a kiss on the back of Arthur’s neck. “Prat.”

“Not a prat,” Arthur muttered back, finally allowing himself to unwind as Merlin’s talented hands worked miracles on the aches and pains in his shoulder and upper back. He shivered as Merlin pressed against him and nipped at his ear.

“I beg to differ.”

“You always have,” said Arthur, recalling with vivid clarity their early meetings back before Merlin had become his manservant and was still only the rather extraordinary peasant who had dared to sass him. He’d been right all along, there really _was_ something about Merlin, but Arthur thought that he had only just started to figure him out.

Merlin hummed in agreement as he kissed Arthur’s neck and nosed at his jaw, pressing his face against Arthur’s with a smile Arthur could feel rather than see.

Gentle, featherlight touches skimmed his sides as Merlin righted himself and continued, taking his time to leisurely smooth the oil into Arthur’s skin, working out all the tension Arthur had been holding throughout the very long day. He felt his eyes grow heavy and despite himself, he let them fall closed. Just for a few minutes. Just until Merlin was done. It was so warm and cosy and loving and soft here. And he had everything he needed.

The next thing Arthur was aware of was the slow inhale and exhale of breath against the back of his neck and a warm solid arm flung over his waist. The room was pitch black and the castle silent. He must have fallen asleep under Merlin’s attentions. He felt guilty. Merlin had to have been disappointed. He must have been looking forward to having a celebratory night with just the two of them after having had to share Arthur all evening with the lords and ladies demanding his attention. 

He had wanted tonight to be special. He was king now. It had felt like a long time coming, and yet also way too soon, and he was still raw with the loss of his father. Uther had been deteriorating, that much was true. But Arthur hadn’t been prepared to take the throne so soon. There had been so much he wanted to ask his father. So many more things he needed to learn from him. And now it was too late.

At least he had Merlin. Merlin was a godsend, a rock-like presence in the ebbing and flowing river of Arthur’s life, standing firm against all that came at him. And despite all of his teasing, Arthur respected and trusted Merlin more than anyone. He knew he was too touchy sometimes, too quick to snap and take it out on his lover. Because he knew that Merlin could and _would_ take it. Not that that made it right. He knew that Merlin knew exactly how to deal with him, as he always did. He had known Arthur at his very best and at his very worst, seeing all the sides that others were never meant to see. And he never judged Arthur for it. Oh, he argued with him–how he argued with him. He reasoned with him and gave Arthur his council and his wisdom. But he didn’t judge. 

Merlin was very much an enigma. He was somehow one of the wisest and biggest idiots that Arthur knew. One of the most powerful men Arthur had ever met, and one of the most modest. Never once had Merlin asked him for any credit for all the things that he had done. Acknowledgment sometimes, yes. But he never wanted any praise or a fuss made over his good deeds.

Merlin was a strange and rare person, and Arthur couldn’t quite understand what such a man might see in him. How could he possibly be so sure that Arthur was going to be a magnificent and great king, when Arthur could see himself as neither? The crown was so intimidating, so isolating… His father had spent his dying days with no one to love him but his son. He had no wife, no queen… He seemed to prefer it that way. Arthur lived in fear that he might end up the same way. Bitter. Entitled. Demanding. Alone. He worried that he ticked a few too many of those boxes.

Being a king and balancing it well took a finesse he wasn’t sure that he possessed. Merlin, though... It was fair to say he ticked none of those boxes. Because when he didn’t have Arthur, Merlin still had plenty of friends; he seemed to accumulate them with ease. Most of Arthur’s most valued knights were Merlin’s friends first. He had his mother, his mentor... No one could claim that Merlin was alone. And now that Arthur knew Merlin had magic, he knew there would be entirely new things to learn about, things that Merlin had kept hidden from him, parts of himself he might not ever have shared with anyone else. It gave Arthur a shiver down his spine just thinking about Merlin’s magic… Was it just the excitement? The thrill of something so new and unexpected? He wasn’t sure. His father had made magic such a forbidden subject, something that he barely knew anything about. But he was sure that it wasn’t evil. He would be able to tell if Merlin were evil, and he was certain that that was something Merlin was incapable of. He had wept over the killing of a unicorn, for crying out loud!

Behind him, Merlin murmured something half asleep and pressed his warm, soft body closer, nuzzling with a contented sound against the crook of Arthur’s neck—hardly the work of an evil sorcerer.

“You’re awake,” he rasped.

“Mm,” Arthur agreed.

“Your first morning as King,” said Merlin, still sleep heavy and warm as Arthur turned in his arms to face him. 

Merlin grinned smugly at him, his eyes still closed.

“What?” asked Arthur, finding Merlin’s smugness irritating.

“Nothing,” Merlin replied, cracking his eyes open and squinting at him blearily. “I was just thinking about how I’ve just woken up in bed with the king.” He cocked an eyebrow at Arthur, which only served to make him look smugger.

“You fell asleep with the king, too, nothing’s changed,” Arthur retorted. He had never really been a morning person.

“Hasn’t it?” asked Merlin, with a look of surprise. “I feel like a lot of things have changed since last night.” There was a long pause. “So you’re not mad or anything,” Merlin continued, cautiously. “About the…”

“I— No,” Arthur said decisively. 

“Good. I mean, thanks. You know, I never meant to keep it from you. I always wanted to tell you. But I didn’t want to make you choose between me and your father.”

Arthur stretched his arms above his head. “I’m not really sure it would have been a choice,” he admitted.

A confused frown marred Merlin’s forehead, and Arthur went to smooth it away with his thumb. “Idiot,” he said fondly. “Who is it that warms my bed? Who is it that I defied my father for more times than I can count? Who is it that I love? Honestly, Merli—”

Merlin kissed him and Arthur grinned into the kiss, pressing him into the mattress. Merlin made little pleased noises as he lay on top of him, parting his lips and sliding his tongue into his mouth. Arthur blindly reached out towards the bedside table, groping for a vial of something… anything. A small jar flew into his hand as if by… He pulled away and looked at Merlin sharply. Merlin merely looked back at him with a mixture of sheepishness and exasperation as he nodded his head at the jar. 

Arthur tugged the cork out with his teeth and dipped two fingers in the opening. He discarded the jar soon after as he shuffled back enough to be between Merlin’s legs. Merlin looked up at him, his lips worrying his teeth. As though they hadn’t already done this very thing many times before. To Arthur, it felt as though little had changed, but he could appreciate that for Merlin, this time would be special for him. Arthur had finally become king, an event he knew Merlin had been waiting for. His belief in Arthur had kept him going even when he didn’t believe in himself. More importantly, Merlin had finally told Arthur his biggest secret. Arthur couldn’t imagine how much relief he must be feeling. 

He kissed Merlin impulsively.

“No more secrets, okay?” he asked. “For either of us.”

“Are you sure you want me to hold you to that?”

“I want to hold _you_ to that.”

Merlin looked like he was going to say something. “There’s… there’s another—something else I need to tell you,” he said, and he saw a glimmer of fear in Merlin’s eyes for the first time. “And I will, but after… Can we just— I—I promise no more secrets. But can we just… can we just have this morning?”

As he watched the way Merlin’s face contorted and changed, Arthur wondered just what this new secret was and why Merlin was so scared to tell him. Would it change the way Arthur felt about him? 

“Arthur, _please_.” 

The desperation in Merlin’s voice made up Arthur’s mind for him. As a prince, and as a knight, he knew how to savour the important moments in life, how to enjoy all that he could knowing that every moment could be his last. Perhaps he should just heed to Merlin’s request and let this revelation fall to the wayside for the time being. 

With a grim determination to enjoy _this_ moment with his manservant, Arthur pushed all his worries aside and slowly pushed a slick finger inside Merlin’s hole. He watched as Merlin’s face relaxed and his eyes grew deep and grateful. Merlin’s face was so ridiculously expressive it was a wonder the whole world and their mothers didn’t know about his secret already. But Arthur supposed that most of them didn’t see what he saw. They just saw the endearing, clumsy manservant to the king. 

Of course, they could never have this… they would never be able to see the way Merlin stretched out all long lean limbs beneath him, momentarily relaxed, but soon to be straining as Arthur applied all his well-earned knowledge of the things that turned Merlin on. 

Arthur traced his fingers over the dark hairs on Merlin’s chest, smoothing them over the hard muscles of his abdomen which twitched under his touch, before running fingertips teasingly along the dark trail of hair that usually lurked just below Merlin’s belt, hidden from others, but all Arthur’s. A surge of possessive satisfaction curled in his belly. Merlin was all his. 

He pressed a kiss to the side of Merlin’s neck as Merlin tilted his head back on the pillow with a sigh. “Relax,” Arthur whispered, mapping Merlin’s jaw with his lips and savouring the way his breath hitched and his throat worked.

Arthur sucked a bruising kiss on Merlin’s neck, fully aware that it was too high to be concealed by one of his ratty neckerchiefs, but buoyed by the fact that he was king now, so who would be able to object? He pressed his fingers inside Merlin, crooking them, and his satisfaction grew as Merlin jerked and clawed at his arm, stuttering, “A—Arthur!” 

He drew himself away from the delights of Merlin’s neck and all the little noises that he made, aware that greater pleasure still awaited them both. The sun’s rays caught on Merlin’s dark hair as the early morning light crept into the room, making it glisten in a most satisfactory way.

Pulling his fingers out, Arthur felt about amongst the sheets for the discarded vial, making a noise of triumph when his fingers closed around it and he used the contents to slick himself. He looked Merlin in the eye, asking with a mere look if he was ready. Merlin nodded his head, so Arthur lined up and pushed in with one slow, smooth motion. He closed his eyes against the onslaught to his senses; Merlin’s face, the way that his tight heat engulfed him, and the sheer amount of love that he felt for this man who had wormed his way into his life and stepped so easily into his heart. 

He realised in that moment that Merlin’s secret could be anything at all and it would not change how he felt in his heart of hearts. Though he hoped with all his might that Merlin’s secret was not anything of importance to his kingdom, because in a competition between his kingdom and his love, he wasn’t sure who would win. As a prince, he had been taught to put the needs of the kingdom above all else, but in this case, he wasn’t sure how he would be able to pick between his head and his heart.

Merlin hooked a leg around Arthur’s waist and tried to pull him closer, returning Arthur’s focus to the job at hand. He drew his hips back a little and then pushed back in, slowly, teasingly, making Merlin shudder. He braced his hands either side of Merlin’s head and continued to take his time, enjoying every movement as he pumped in and out, feeling the way that Merlin clung tight around him. Merlin dug his heel into Arthur’s back to urge him to go faster, but Arthur persisted, drawing choked off moans from his manservant who gripped the sheets beneath him.

As the room grew brighter and Merlin more vocal, Arthur increased his pace, chasing the release that was just out of reach. He shifted positions, lifting Merlin’s slender legs over his shoulders before he began pistoning his hips. Merlin clung to his biceps, digging his nails in so deep that Arthur knew there’d be marks later. He relished the reminder of their relationship that would linger with him for the best part of the day. They couldn't go too crazy of course, because even though they no longer had to hide their relationship from his father, Arthur’s court was still filled with nobles of Uther’s design and he would do well not to upset them with too bold a display just yet. Merlin had never marked him anywhere that people could see, and Arthur had a suspicion that of the two of them, that he was by far the most possessive. But it was hardly _his_ fault that people kept flirting with Merlin, was it? A man had to stake his claim somehow. Occasionally.

Arthur reached between them and wrapped his fingers around Merlin’s cock, knowing from the choked off noises he was making that Merlin was close. He pumped his fist in conjunction with his hips, and within a few thrusts Merlin was crying out and for the first time since they’d started this whole… well, Arthur had _thought_ it was sort of a mutually beneficial agreement at first, but it had really always been more than that—relationship, Merlin’s eyes turned a bright molten gold and a pulse of energy flooded the room, robbing Arthur of his breath and sending a tingle of sparks down his spine. His vision darkened, and he came hard with a yell, careening over the edge in Merlin’s wake.

His arms buckling, Arthur collapsed on top of Merlin, gasping to regain his breath as Merlin rubbed small circles on his back. He did not speak for some minutes, finding it difficult to gather his thoughts, let alone speak.

When he had finally regained enough of his senses to form words, he asked, “What was that?”

“My magic,” said Merlin, a little sheepishly. “I’ve never really let go of it before during… Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I won’t do it next time.” 

Arthur looked up at him sharply and grasped his chin to have Merlin meet his gaze. 

“No,” Arthur told him firmly, as Merlin met his eyes with a mixture of confusion and surprise. “I don’t want you to hold back who you are anymore. I want you to always be you. Especially with me. No more lies, no more secrets. No more hiding. I know that Camelot has not been the most… hospitable place for people like you. But I’m king now, and I can change that—” 

“Arthur…”

“—and I will. I promise. Magic will be legal in Camelot—”

“Arthur!”

Arthur scowled down at Merlin. “What? Isn’t this what you wanted? Don’t you want to be free to practice magic, without fear, without persecution, without—”

Merlin pressed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. “Of course I do. I want that more than almost anything. But just shut up and listen to me, okay? The people aren’t ready yet. They need more time. They’ve had years and years of being told magic is evil and something to be feared. I fear they will react poorly if you prove to be an impulsive king. Win their trust and their respect first, and then they will be able to open their minds and their hearts to magic once more.”

Arthur sighed, he was impatient to move forward. But he had to admit Merlin had some good points.

Feeling his scowl deepen, Arthur asked, “When did you get to be so wise?”

“When did you get to be so heavy?” Merlin groused, trying to push Arthur off of him. 

As they lay there, Arthur half draped over his sorcerer, he found himself reluctant to break the peace and contentment that filled his quiet chambers. They didn’t often get moments like this, and Arthur feared that his kingship would rob them of it all the more. He was glad that there had been no knocking on his door as yet, because he wasn’t sure he could move himself right now if his life depended on it. He felt as though they both deserved the rest after what he was pretty sure was the best orgasm of his life.

“So…” he began. “You’re going to do that magic thing again right?”

Merlin laughed. “If you want me to.”

Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s arm, which was closest to him. “Mmm, definitely,” he replied. 

“Then count on it,” yawned Merlin.

A peace fell over the chambers again and Arthur revelled in it, wishing that it would last forever.

But finally Merlin yawned and stretched, all tall and long and taut beneath him. “Well—” he began.

Arthur opened an eye to peek at him accusingly, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he admonished. “We are staying put for at least another candlemark.”

“But—”

“Shh!”

“Arthur! We need—” Arthur shushed him again. “Hey! I was just—”

There was nothing else for it. Arthur kissed him thoroughly, until they were both breathless, hoping that Merlin would lose his train of thought.

“We’re going to have to get up eventually,” panted Merlin when they parted. 

“Mmm,” said Arthur, looping his arm around him and curling up close, a possessive leg wrapped around Merlin’s waist. “Eventually.”


	2. Chapter 2

Later that evening, after a long day of council and ceremony as Camelot’s new king, Arthur sat slumped in his chair, a quill in hand, his focus on his paperwork long gone. He sighed and deposited the quill on the desk. It was no use; that would all have to wait until tomorrow.

He leaned back and looked over at where Merlin sat perched on a wooden stool by the fire, his eyes glazed and thoughts a million miles away as he absent-mindedly polished Arthur’s boots. How beautiful and ethereal Merlin looked at that moment—well, at almost every moment. But there was just something especially otherworldly about him right now as he sat, with the light and shadows dipping over his face, showcasing those delicate—and quite frankly ridiculous—cheekbones, the perfect slope of his brow and nose, sitting atop those innocent, sinful lips which should really be forbidden more than magic. 

It was a little eerie watching the way the light reflected dancing flames in his manservants eyes. A poor substitute for the real thing, but something Arthur had often wondered about. He had often written Merlin’s magic off as a trick of the light, because of course he would know if Merlin had magic. If Merlin had magic, he would have told him. So a part of him had dismissed the matter altogether. Now it was obvious that Merlin had been waiting, biding his time before he could confess to having such power lurking within him. Despite that, however, there had always been something about Merlin, something that Arthur had never been able to quite able to figure out. He wasn’t sure he had completed the puzzle even now. Perhaps Merlin’s promised confession would shed some light on things.

“Merlin,” he called. Merlin jumped and almost dropped both boot and brush, the latter clattering to the floor. “For goodness sake, stop polishing that boot or there will be nothing left of it. Come here.”

Merlin stood, unfolding all those long limbs with a grace that by all means he shouldn’t have, then walked towards him, an inquiring look on his face. Arthur rose, too, and motioned to the table in the middle of the room where they could talk. 

“So,” he began, as they took their favourite seats. “Let’s hear it.”

“Hear it?”

“You wanted to tell me something, did you not? This morning?”

A look of realisation washed over Merlin’s face, swiftly replaced with a worried one. He hunched in on himself and chewed on his lip. “Oh. Yes, that.”

“Well, go on then,” said Arthur, as encouragingly as he could.

Merlin heaved a heavy sigh, and Arthur could tell he was resigned to telling him the truth, no matter what, so he waited, as patiently as a king who’d had almost every whim indulged as a child could.

For a moment, Merlin opened his mouth, and it looked as though he was going to speak. But then he closed it again and licked his lips. 

“D’you… do you remember the dragon?” he asked hesitantly.

Arthur frowned, wondering why Merlin was bringing that up now. The experience had been so harrowing, it was hardly something he would forget.

“Of course I do,” he said.

“Right,” replied Merlin, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Well, you know that he was being held captive under the castle—”

“What!?”

“Oh. Um. Well, I guess you do now. He had been kept—chained—underneath the castle for nearly twenty years before…”

“Before he managed to break free and decided to take his vengeance,” finished Arthur grimly, remembering with vivid detail all the deaths and destruction the dragon had wreaked on the town.

“About that…” said Merlin, timidly. “He, uh, didn’t exactly _break free_...”

“I don’t understand,” said Arthur. He remembered specific moments of that time very vividly, and he didn’t recall anyone mentioning exactly where this dragon had come from, but at the time, that hadn’t been relevant. He’d simply assumed it had appeared from somewhere. It hadn’t mattered from where. The important thing had been figuring out how to defeat the damn beast.

“I—I may have— I might have promised to free him,” Merlin mumbled.

Arthur’s frown and confusion deepened. “Look, Merlin, can you just stop talking in riddles and cut to it? Because I’m just not getting the point of all this dragon talk.”

Merlin looked down at the table, swallowing hard, and when he finally looked up at Arthur, tears were glistening in his eyes.

“It was me. I released the dragon,” he said quietly. 

“What?” asked Arthur, suddenly upright and fully alert. “What on _earth_ possessed you to do that!?”

“I had to!” exclaimed Merlin. “I promised him!”

Gripping the arm of his chair, Arthur grit his teeth. “Promised him?” he said. “You talk about this dragon as if he could talk and think, and not as the hellish beast that he was.”

Merlin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “He _can_ talk. Dragons... They’re… they are sentient, intelligent creatures. And the dragon, he—he’s helped me a lot. Helped Camelot a lot!”

Arthur scoffed and said drolly, “Yes, if you can call burning down half the town and causing countless deaths ‘helping’—which, let me be clear, Merlin, I don’t. You’re lucky you are who you are. If anyone else were to tell me they’d released a dragon on Camelot, they would find themselves at the other end of my sword. Why, Merlin? You’d better have a damn good explanation!”

“He really did help, countless times! He gave me advice, spells, ways to protect Camelot when nothing else would!” Merlin leaned forward, and his lips curved into a reluctant smile. “When I first came to Camelot, my very first week here, he called out to me. I don’t know how he did it, but that’s how I first found him. It was as though he were summoning me to him, like he wanted to inspect me and see if he found me worthy.”

“Worthy? Why would a dragon care about a man’s worth?”

“Ah, well, you see, you and I, we have a destiny. But that’s probably another story—”

“Another—?” exclaimed Arthur, though after a moment’s reflection he realised that of course there would be more stories and more secrets to be told. This was _Merlin_ afterall. “Carry on about the dragon.”

“Your sword...” said Merlin, nodding to where Excalibur sat, wrapped in a sword belt on the sideboard. It was a good sword, the best Arthur had ever wielded. Whenever he used it, he felt such a confidence, such a sense of oneness, such a _Merlin-like feeling…_ “It was forged in the dragon’s breath. He created it for _you_ , Arthur.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because he believes in the world that you will build. It is not a mortal blade. It can kill anything. Even the undead. We made it for you, when the wraith came and challenged you to a duel. But your father...” Merlin shook his head. “Your father took the sword and killed the wraith. Kilgharrah was so mad.”

“Kilgharrah? Oh, the beast had a name? You must have been close!” said Arthur sarcastically.

Merlin hummed. “You could say that. He’s done a lot for you, you know. Regardless of what you think of him.”

“He destroyed the town and killed countless innocent people! So you tell me, Merlin. What _am_ I supposed to think about him?” Arthur growled, irritated that Merlin seemed to think that he should be _grateful_ for anything that vicious reptile had done. “My father should have killed it, like he did all the others! He told me that they couldn’t be trusted and were no better than snakes.”

“Killed it!” exclaimed Merlin angrily.

“Yes, killed it so that it couldn’t kill all those people!”

“Look, I tried to stop him. I tried to make him promise he wouldn’t hurt anyone. But he was angry and he wanted vengeance against your father for all that he’d done to him and his kind! Surely you can understand that? He’s the last of his kind!”

Arthur shook his head. “I still don’t understand why,” he said quietly. “Why did you do it Merlin? Why release him if he wouldn’t promise you that? If you knew what he would do?”

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know that’s what he was going to do! I couldn’t have known. But I didn’t have a choice. I had to release him, otherwise he wouldn’t tell me the source of the spell!”

“The spell?” said Arthur, getting impatient. “Merlin, you’re talking in circles. Just tell me why you released the goddamn dragon. I swear, if you were anyone else you’d already be in the cells about to be sentenced for treason! To say nothing of everything else you’ve confessed to this past day.”

Merlin looked hurt for a moment, and then as though he was about to be flippant with him, the insolent sod. But apparently he thought the better of it because he took a big breath and then started to talk again.

“Well, you remember when we rode out and saw the knights of Medhir? And when we came back everyone in the whole castle was fast asleep? Well, except for Morgana. I tried everything that I could think of, magic and everything to try and wake Gaius so that he could help us, but it was useless. We were so, so vulnerable and when we started to get sleepy too, I had to do something. And I had no one else to turn to. If we had fallen asleep as well, we would have been done for, and Camelot would have fallen. So I went to see the dragon. He’d helped me before, you see, at other times when even Gaius didn’t know what to do. 

“He gave me a spell to help recapture the spirit of Sagan — that was when he made me promise that I would release him. But I didn’t then. I made him give me a spell to heal Morgana after her fall! He helped me to break the troll’s spell! If it weren’t for him, you’d still have a troll for a stepmother! And, and, I tried my best to put off releasing him, because I was scared, but he told me this would be the last thing that he would do. He told me that the spell was so powerful that—that it would need a living vessel. And—and the only person who was unaffected by the spell was—was—” 

“Morgana.”

“Exactly. And—and… You have to understand, I had no choice. I had to do it. If there’d been any other way, I would have chosen it, but—but I had to break the spell. I—I—”

Merlin looked away from him, a stray tear falling down his cheek, followed by another, and another. Arthur wanted to reach out and hold Merlin’s hand and wipe away his tears, but he feared what Merlin was going to say next... Merlin really was a quandary. What on earth should a king do with an insolent, defiant, wise, magical, dragon-releasing manservant-cum-lover who was confessing his deepest and darkest secrets?

“I poisoned Morgana. I’m sorry! But it was the only thing I could do to save us. She was working with Morgause, and she was the source of the spell. The only way to stop it was to kill Morgana or to get the original caster to release the spell. Morgause showed up just after I did it. I made her release the spell before I told her what poison I used. Because—because I used one that’s effects can be reversed. I didn’t want to— If I was wrong, I thought that I could— Arthur, I’m so sorry. I should have found another way. I—”

Arthur shook his head, it was as he feared. And yet he still found it difficult to process. Merlin had done so many things without him knowing about it. He tried to be angry. He knew by all rights he should be more angry than he was. He should be raging mad. But it was _Merlin_ , and the idiot had obviously been trying his best against awful odds. And despite all the horrible results of Merlin’s decisions, Arthur wasn’t sure he would have ended up faring any better himself.

“If Morgana was in cahoots with Morgause even then, she was already lost to us. We just didn’t know it. I don’t _blame you_ per se, Merlin. But you have to admit, it’s an awful lot to process. I—I may need some time. Any other startling confessions you’d like to make?”

Merlin winced and Arthur braced himself. 

“The—the dragonlord,” Merlin began, swallowing heavily and looking down at his hands. “I found out, j—just before we left. He—he was my father.”

“Your—your father?”

Merlin nodded. “I never knew before then. Mother always refused to talk about him. I just—I just thought that he must have been someone in the village. That—that I was someone’s dirty secret. Anyway. To cut to it, as you say, the powers of a Dragonlord... They pass from father to son. So…” 

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. “Now I am the last Dragonlord. I—I lied to you. I told you that you dealt Kilgharrah a mortal blow. But… he is the last of his kind and I just— I couldn’t let the dragons die off just like that. There is…” he licked his lips, “there is a bond of kinship, between dragons and Dragonlords. I don’t… I still don’t understand it. But I feel it.” Merlin touched his breast. “I can feel him here, and I think he can feel me, too. But— but don’t worry, he can’t harm Camelot again. I forbade it. I spared his life and ordered that he never return to Camelot again. And, and when a Dragonlord gives an order, the dragon _must_ obey.”

Arthur’s interest was piqued. He wasn’t sure why he was still surprised by anything that came out of Merlin’s lips; Merlin could tell him that the sky was purple and grass was red and Arthur felt he would have to believe him. And now Merlin was telling him that he could control dragons? But there was one thing in particular that weighed heavily on Arthur’s mind.

“If you can control dragons, why didn’t you tell him to stop attacking Camelot? All those people killed, Merlin… I just—”

“I couldn’t! Not then. I didn’t have the powers of a Dragonlord. I—I told you. They—they pass from father to son and—and so I— I wasn’t a Dragonlord un—until—” Merlin stumbled and stuttered over the words, his voice thick with unshed tears.

“Until the Dragonlord— Oh gods! He was your father! Merlin… You were crying over him, and I told you that no man was worth your tears…”

“S’okay,” said Merlin, wiping his eyes with his jacket sleeve. “It’s not like you knew. I never gave you the chance to know.”

“I remember now. You were acting funny that whole trip. Moody, stand-offish. You didn’t even want to push the beds together. You just wanted to be left alone. I guess I know why now. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. The Dragonlord—Balinor. He was a good man.”

Merlin laughed hollowly. “Yeah. I—I’d just hoped for more time. But—but that night. We, we talked. Almost the entire night,” Merlin smiled to himself. “I was so happy. He was my father, and he liked me. He cared about me. I— I was going to, you know, after the dragon— I was going to take him back to Ealdor. To my mother. Though she never talked about him. She—she must have loved him. And I thought, I thought if I could just bring them back together again, everything— it would be like he’d never left? We’d be like a normal, regular family.”

Arthur laughed himself at that. “If there’s one thing I do know, Merlin, is that _you_ , and indeed families, are never normal. Families are all… special. In their own ways.”

Merlin rubbed his face with his hands, his breath shaky.

“I’m sorry,” he said miserably. “I’ve made so many mistakes. I thought I was doing what was right, or at least, making the best choice. But I should have worked harder. I should have found other ways. I should have—I should have figured out a way to defeat the spell without poisoning Morgana. A way to keep my promise to Kilgharrah without hurting Camelot. And I should have told you about my magic, about,” he made a round hand gesture, “all of this. So, I’m sorry. I truly am, Arthur. From now on, I will tell you everything, I swear. And if you want to meet Kilgharrah, I will call him and he will come.”

Arthur shook his head and stood up, gesturing to the bed. “No, I think that’s enough for one night, without meeting any dragons. Let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

Merlin stood there frowning at him. “You mean— I don’t— Aren’t you angry? Even in the slightest? I just— I never expected you to act like this.”

Arthur sighed as he pulled off his jacket and slung it over the back of his chair. 

“Oh, I’m definitely angry. You should have told me about all of this long ago. But I don’t think I can _blame_ you for making the choices that you did. You were in a tight spot and with my father’s laws on magic... I don’t quite know how we would have survived the things we did without your help. Illegal as it was. So, yes I’m mad. But I’m also not mad.” 

He pulled off his shirt and this time just discarded it on the floor, earning him a piercing glare from Merlin, who hurried over to pick it up. 

“I know that it doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Arthur continued, and he grabbed Merlin by the lapel of his jacket. “But you’ve never made a lot of sense. Now, come to bed.” 

He grazed his lips against Merlin’s before stepping away, dropping his breeches and sauntering casually over to the bed.

“Merlin!” he called. “I’m waiting.”

“Yes, sire,” said Merlin, dropping everything to shed his own clothes and hurrying to join him.

***

It took the best part of three weeks for Merlin to lose his skittishness around Arthur. He still had a difficult time accepting that Arthur wasn’t mad at him for his past actions. Arthur himself wasn’t completely sure whether he’d fully processed the enormity of everything that Merlin had done. He had been bracing himself for a wave of anger to engulf him, too, but it had never come, and to be frank, he’d feel a bit of a fool to get angry at Merlin now. The thing was, Arthur knew what it was like to have to make a spur of the moment decision for the kingdom. He had to do it often. And he knew that he had made his own mistakes. Killing Caerleon, for example. Or rushing off to get the morteous flower, potentially risking his life as the heir of Camelot, when Merlin had become deathly ill after drinking from a goblet intended for him. 

Arthur knew that, despite the errors and grave mistakes he’d made, Merlin’s heart was in the right place. He didn’t doubt Merlin’s devotion to Camelot, and he never had. The only difference was that now he could see the way that sometimes Merlin’s shoulders stooped, as though he had the weight of the world upon them, or the way that he would sometimes look truly sad and pensive when he thought no one was watching him and he could understand why. He wondered how he could have been so blind. He had always teased Merlin and told him that he could never know what it was like to be king, but actually, Merlin did know, possibly even better than he did. Arthur was still so new to his kingship, for all he had been training for it his entire life.

He wanted to make things right between the two of them, to make Merlin feel comfortable again. He leant against the wall by a window in his chambers, idly watching the people crossing the courtyard below him. What could he do to make things better? Some alone time? It _had_ been a while since they’d spent time away from the castle together, just the two of them. Being regent and then king was a lot more time-consuming than being a prince ever was. He had never realised how good he had it. A break would be just the thing. For both of them. It wouldn’t be long before the weather turned and they were confined to the citadel by rain, snow and the blistering cold. As of late, however, they’d been experiencing a rather mild snap. They could go out hunting like they used to and enjoy the privacy that being completely alone would afford them. 

The doors to his chambers flew open, startling him, and Merlin stomped in, allowing the doors to swing closed behind him.

“Dinner!” he announced with a grin, as he deposited a hefty tray onto the table.

Arthur drew himself up and eagerly made his way to the table. He was hungry, and he always felt like conversations went better when food was involved.

“So,” he began, once their plates were full and Merlin had a mouthful of food. “How about we go on a hunt?”

***

So far, the day had been glorious. Fresh air, sunshine, and woodland for miles around them. The weather was just crisp enough to be invigorating, but warm enough in the sunshine that they weren’t cold. The riding and activity had reinvigorated Arthur’s spirits—to say nothing of the handjobs he and Merlin had exchanged once they’d travelled far enough into the Darkling woods not to risk being discovered by any of Camelot’s patrols.

Now they were cantering through the trees in search of a good spot to set up camp. Arthur was happy. Merlin… not so much. As usual, he had been complaining about the length of the ride, but once they had stopped and were settled for the night, Arthur was sure that he could make those complaints cease. If only he could find the clearing he’d been thinking of. It was somewhere close to here, that much he knew. He just hoped that it was still there and still how he remembered it.

“...It’s all right for you; you’ve got plenty of padding. Me, though… I mean, we’ve been riding for ages, can’t we just have a break, at least for a little while?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Ah yes, you and your delicate bottom. Wouldn’t want it to get too sore, now, would we? Just hold on tight, we’re almost there.”

“Yes, and then I get to set up camp. Fantastic.”

Arthur bit back a sigh. Why did Merlin have to be so difficult, when all he was trying to do was do something nice and, dare he say it, romantic for them? Or did he not realise the reason they’d gone traipsing all this way out into the woods? Did Merlin really believe that he would go all this way for a hunt, with the seasons just about to turn? He probably did. Merlin never cared to know the ins and outs of hunting, but he could very likely tell you everything you needed to know about the life cycles and seasons of the various plants, leaves, roots, nuts and berries that grew in the proximity to the castle. He’d seen all the painstaking studies and delicate drawings Merlin had made and hung in his room. Though, really, Merlin’s room was all but abandoned most nights these days. 

He still made a point of staying with Gaius at least once a week, often twice, much to Arthur’s chagrin, because he was selfish of Merlin’s time and wanted as much of it as possible. And it had been rather sparse lately, what with Merlin still on tenterhooks. Arthur wanted to push past all that and just to be them again. He missed it. They were good together, and Merlin was exactly the kind of person Arthur needed in his life. 

Arthur steered Hengroen onwards and had him push through the undergrowth to emerge, finally, into the most beautiful clearing Arthur had ever seen. Behind him he heard Merlin give a gasp of amazement, and he smiled to himself. Mission accomplished.

“How about here?” he asked casually as he dismounted.

Merlin looked around, completely dumbfounded. “Here is perfect,” he murmured as he half slid, half jumped off his horse. He never had managed to get the hang of dismounting, and his seat on a horse still left something to be desired. If he would only listen when Arthur tried to correct his posture and learn to do it all properly, he would find horse-riding much more of a pleasure.

Arthur started to unfasten his bedroll and take off his saddlebags, eager to ease Hengroen’s burden and let him rest up. He had pushed their horses hard to get to this spot in the course of a single day. Fortunately, Merlin’s horse was a hearty little mare who was as placid as you could get and tough as nails to boot. She rarely spooked, and her one flaw—if you could even call it a flaw—was her unabiding love for Merlin. For anyone else, she was the worst horse imaginable, but with Merlin, she was deeply in love. Arthur could sympathise. 

His heart swelled as he watched his bewitching manservant, still drinking in the clearing as Aster nuzzled at his arm. The late evening light streamed through the canopy of the trees and caught in Merlin’s hair, and standing there, in the middle of the woodland, it made him look altogether otherworldly, almost fae.

Merlin stirred suddenly, tugging at his bag straps and depositing them on the ground. He took a moment to pet Aster and stop her fussing before he removed his bedroll.

“Where do you want the fire?” he asked, completely oblivious to how full Arthur’s heart was right now. “Over there?” He pointed at a spot near the centre of the clearing.

“Sure,” said Arthur absentmindedly. He watched as Merlin flitted around, grabbing both his own bags and Arthur’s.

“Right. I’ll get some firewood, shall I?” He looked over at Arthur, still standing where he’d dismounted, and frowned. “What?” he asked. “Arthur, are you feeling okay?”

Arthur cleared his throat and grabbed the horses reins, walking them over to a nearby tree. “Yes, I’m fine. Fine,” he insisted. 

“Are you sure? You had a funny look on your face.” Merlin bent and started picking up small branches from the ground, and Arthur scolded himself for the thoughts that immediately came to mind.

Turning back to his work, he focused his mind firmly on tying up the horses, glad he had been so well-trained in knots as a child that he didn’t have to think too much about it. “Yes, I just said I’m fine. Stop fussing. Honestly, Merlin,” he bit out, embarrassed to have been caught staring. Normally, Merlin was almost completely oblivious. “I’ll go get firewood,” he added.

“Aren’t you going to hunt for something?” asked Merlin curiously. “That _is_ what we’re out here for, after all.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. So oblivious. “We’ve plenty to eat for tonight. Tomorrow,” he called, heading into the woodland, glad to have a few moments in private to gather himself. He shook his head. He didn’t often feel sentimental or overwhelmed. Merlin just seemed to bring that out in him, without even trying. He wasn’t used to it, and he wasn’t entirely sure he liked it. His feelings for Merlin made him feel out of control, and it scared Arthur when he realised how far he would go for the other man. How far he had already gone for him. How many times had he denied his father or put his life in danger, all for Merlin? And it wasn’t a recent development either. He had always done it, right from when they first met. He couldn’t think of anyone else he had protected more than Merlin.

With a deep sigh, he began to gather as much wood as he could find and vowed to quash all of his inconvenient feelings. It was hard enough being discreet as it was, without allowing his feelings to take over and make him swoon like a love-sick maiden.

***

Later, with the heat of the fire and the warmth of cook’s excellent food in his stomach, Arthur finally grew brave enough to talk. “Merlin,” he said. “You know that I forgive you, don’t you? That I’m not mad at you. Well, not completely mad, anyway. I know that you did what had to, and I forgive you. When we get back to Camelot, I want to start working to make magic legal again.”

Merlin had begun by not quite being able to meet Arthur’s gaze, but at this, his eyes darted sharply to Arthur’s.

“Arthur…” he breathed. “I— I don’t know what to say. I— I don’t want you to do it on my behalf. Not if it’s just for me.”

Laughing, Arthur said, “And you call me big headed? No. No, it’s not for you. Well, not just for you. I’ve had some time to think about it, and I think it’s time. My father… as much as I loved him, I know that he was always a little…”

“Crazy? Overzealous? Fanatical?”

“ _Unbalanced_ , with the way he reacted to magic. I know that magic can do a lot of things. Some of it is good, some of it bad. So I’m not entirely sure how to go about it. But I want to bring it back to Camelot again.”

Merlin smiled warmly. “It never left. Magic has always been here. And always _will_ be here. It’s all around us, in everything we see and every breath we take,” he said dreamily as he cast his eyes up towards the night sky. 

Arthur frowned at him, puzzled by this declaration. Surely his father would have known, if that were the case?

“You can’t feel it?” said Merlin with surprise.

“No,” said Arthur, shaking his head. 

“But the world is so _alive_ , Arthur.” He reached out for Arthur’s hand and closed his eyes, and Arthur gasped as suddenly his hand began to tingle. It was as if the whole world was shifting and shimmering, humming with life all around him. Was this what Merlin felt? 

“You feel like this all the time?” he asked, and Merlin nodded. “But—but how do you ever focus on anything? It’s so beautiful.”

“The world is most beautiful here,” Merlin said, cupping Arthur’s face with his free hand.

Arthur looked into Merlin’s eyes, swimming with gold as he held the spell which allowed Arthur to see the magic that surrounded them, and as the feeling started to fade, Merlin’s eyes slowly returned to normal, the gold washing out of them leaving them their usual shade of blue. 

Ever so slightly hesitant, Merlin pulled Arthur closer by his jacket and pressed his lips, warm and soft, against Arthur’s. A thrill ran through Arthur, and he slid his hand into Merlin’s hair. He pulled Merlin so close that he overbalanced and landed squarely in Arthur’s lap.

“Now _this_ is exactly where I want you,” Arthur said, brushing his fingers along Merlin’s neck, dipping down beneath his neckerchief before he unknotted it and tugged it off. He nuzzled along Merlin’s jaw and down his neck, pushing aside the scratchy cotton shirt Merlin always seemed to wear to get to the junction of his neck and shoulder, then sucked firmly there as Merlin hissed then groaned and wriggled in Arthur’s lap.

He pushed his hand between Merlin’s legs, rubbing the heel of his hand firmly against Merlin’s already-hard cock. Then, in the blink of an eye and with a strange tingle that went straight to his own cock, he was toppled over onto his back on the forest floor on top of their bedrolls a few steps from where they’d been sitting.

“What the..?” he asked, blinking at the log they’d been sitting on just moments before and then looking up at Merlin. 

Merlin bent to kiss him. “Sorry, just thought we’d be more comfortable this way.”

Arthur didn’t bother with a reply; instead, he held Merlin close and rolled them over so that he was on top, kissing him senseless. He pressed himself against Merlin, desperate for a little friction, but reluctant to break from their kiss as he undulated on top, swallowing up Merlin’s moans as his body arched up to meet Arthur’s. 

He gasped as magic tingled through him again, almost bringing him to the edge, and he found himself suddenly nude. Not that he could object to that, as Merlin was also naked, and Merlin being naked was one of Arthur’s favourite things. His hands travelled over the smooth, familiar skin and across a scar on Merlin’s left shoulder from an arrow he’d taken over a year ago. As his thumb caressed it delicately, Arthur recalled that harrowing moment where Merlin’s life had hung in the balance. They had both had so many close calls over the years. And though Arthur hadn’t realised it until recently, if it weren’t for Merlin, he could likely have been dead many times over by now. But to know how close he had come to losing Merlin..? That was unthinkable. He hadn’t allowed himself to think of it then, and he wouldn’t allow himself to think of it now, either. A knight couldn’t think of death, nor a king. They lived life for the moment and savored every day they were given, because who knew when it might all suddenly end?

Arthur’s hands continued their quest upwards, making Merlin shiver and try to wriggle away from his light touch. He had always been ticklish along his sides, and Arthur took great joy in exploiting that whenever he could. 

“Arthur,” laughed Merlin, looking up at him. Arthur grinned and tweaked one of his nipples, making Merlin gasp. He ducked his head and followed up the tweak with a grazing of teeth, and Merlin’s breath hitched as he fisted a hand in Arthur’s hair. Continuing to lavish attention on Merlin’s nipple, Arthur’s other hand crept downwards, wrapping around Merlin’s cock, and as he started to tug, he pulled the most delicious moans and gasps from his manservant’s sinful mouth.

He traced the lean, sleek lines of his manservant’s body down to his hips and nuzzled there a few moments causing Merlin to huff in annoyance above him. Arthur laughed at his insolence. Merlin was rarely one to hold his tongue when he was displeased, and Arthur was glad. He was glad that their lives had inexplicably entwined, glad that Merlin had come to Camelot, and glad that Merlin had managed to worm his way into Arthur’s life in ways that he would never have even imagined back then. Sleeping with a man, for instance, had never entered into Arthur’s head as a possibility before Merlin, perhaps because Arthur had known that he was expected to marry a woman and produce heirs for the throne. Therefore, there had never been any point imagining anything other than a female form. Not that women weren’t interesting and pretty. But, well… There was something quite intoxicating about having a man writhing beneath you begging you for more, and Arthur didn’t really think about women anymore.

He rubbed his nose teasingly along Merlin’s length, and Merlin tightened his grip on Arthur’s hair as his head fell back. Arthur could see his throat working. He pulled away for a second, and Merlin let out a noise that sounded close to a whine—Arthur made a mental note to tease him about it later. He licked his lips before taking Merlin’s cock in his mouth and sliding all the way down in one smooth movement. Merlin did cry out at that, his cock throbbing, and the air fizzled around them, setting Arthur’s hair on end. He pressed a hand against his own cock to try and take the edge off his own need, and then groaned around Merlin’s cock when he glanced up and saw Merlin’s eyes were molten gold as he looked down at him, a fine mist shimmering in the air as he tipped back his head once more and exhaled. 

Well, that was new. Arthur was going to enjoy invoking these new reactions from Merlin too.

“Sorry,” said Merlin, hoarsely. 

Arthur would have replied, but he was far more content attempting to wring more sounds and magical outbursts from his sorcerer as he worked his lips and throat around Merlin’s length.

“Oh gods!” groaned Merlin, using his hand to guide Arthur’s head up and down. Arthur choked a little as Merlin’s hips began to buck, and reluctantly he had to remove his hand from his own cock to hold Merlin down .

“Oh yeah, yeah, that’s… that’s— that’s so good, Arthur…” Arthur pulled away with a wet pop to slide two fingers in his mouth, bathing them with spit before he mouthed at Merlin’s balls, sucking gently, and then took Merlin’s cock in his mouth again. He slid his moistened fingers down Merlin’s taint. He felt Merlin tense slightly beneath him and pressed his tongue against the underside of Merlin’s cock as he sucked, a move that always distracted Merlin from whatever he was thinking, and slowly pushed a finger inside Merlin’s hole. His sharp cry turned to a sob as Arthur, wriggled his finger, crooking it to find that special spot inside him. He began to thrust his finger in and out in time with the movement of his head, pushing a second digit inside.

Merlin cried out beautifully, his back arching and an explosion of golden light illuminated their small clearing as he came down Arthur’s throat. The magical shockwaves fizzled through Arthur too, as he choked around Merlin’s cock and came untouched, his cock jerking as he shot his load on Merlin’s leg. He collapsed, exhausted, on Merlin’s stomach, and when he cracked an eye open, he frowned as he realised they now lay in a bed of spring flowers.

“Are those bluebells?”

“Mmm, I think so,” murmured Merlin sleepily, and his eyes flashed gold again as a blanket draped over them both, and they fell asleep


	3. Chapter 3

After their hunting trip, during which they caught nothing but more love for each other, and as Merlin learned to take Arthur at his word that he _wasn’t_ angry and didn’t hate him for who he was, tensions eased between them both and their lives at the castle carried on much as they had before Arthur became king and Merlin had made his confessions. 

Merlin was still Arthur’s manservant, and he still stayed most nights in Arthur’s chambers. Merlin rarely used magic, much to Arthur’s curiosity. He had always thought that sorcerers would use magic all the time—that they couldn’t help themselves. He knew that if he’d had magic, that was what he would do, but perhaps Merlin thought it too risky to do in the castle, or perhaps it was out of habit and the need to conceal himself to avoid discovery. 

Either way, Arthur wondered if there might be a way that he could encourage Merlin to be himself more, at least within the safety of their chambers. At least Merlin seemed to let himself go during sex now. Arthur wondered how he’d been able to hold back before, and was saddened that Merlin had ever needed to hold back at all. How hard must it be to live as a shadow of your true self? Having magic hadn’t changed who Merlin _was_. Since their trip, Merlin was back to his normal self, never holding back on his jabs at Arthur and giving his all when it came to their banter. But he obviously wasn’t living up to his true potential. He still wasn’t the person he _could_ be.

According to Gaius, Merlin was very powerful—as difficult as that was to believe—and Arthur resolved to work out a way to allow Merlin and all those like him to live as they should have been all along.

In fact, Arthur had already started working on it. He had been sending Merlin on a series of superfluous errands outside of the castle, so that he could consult in private with Gaius about revoking his father's ban on magic with as little backlash as possible. He wanted to surprise Merlin with it, partly as a thank you for all that he had done, and partly to show him that he understood. 

It had taken Arthur some time, given his upbringing, to realise that magic was neither bad nor evil, and neither were those who possessed it, no more than a man who owned a sword, or a crossbow and arrows. Magic was like a tool, as far as Arthur could figure, and it depended on how the user wielded it, as to the end result. In fact, was magic not better than a sword? A sword was designed for killing and threatening people. And magic, it appeared, could be used for all kinds of things, like healing and growing things. Gaius had taken it upon himself to give Arthur a bit of a magical education, as part of their discussions around the laws of the kingdom, but Merlin, too, was a constant source of new discoveries.

“Merlin,” he called from his desk.

“Hm?” 

“I’m cold. Start a fire.”

Merlin heaved a sigh and started to get up from the stool where he had been working, darning a sock. Arthur used to tease him about that, until Merlin threatened him that he’d stop darning Arthur’s if he kept it up.

“No,” Arthur said. “From there.”

Merlin glanced at him, a little warily, so Arthur merely nodded towards the fireplace and returned to the letter he’d been writing. Merlin held out his hand, cleared his throat and said a word, foreign and deep, and as Merlin’s eyes glowed and a fire burst into life in the grate, Arthur felt his cock give a jerk, starting to fill inside his breeches. He cursed under his breath and pressed a hand against it, hoping to calm himself. 

When he looked up, Merlin was staring at him with an amused smirk. Arthur flushed and looked away. The stool legs scraped against the ground and he heard Merlin’s footsteps padding towards him.

“Arthur,” he said slowly, placing his hands on Arthur’s desk. “Do you like my magic? Do you like it when I cast a spell? Does it _do_ things to you?”

“No!” denied Arthur hotly.

“No?” asked Merlin innocently. He leaned against the table, his legs crossed as he casually made a small flame appear in the palm of his hand without any words at all.

Arthur bit back a moan as his cock throbbed and grew to half-mast. Though he could try denying it to Merlin, there was no denying it to himself. Merlin doing magic definitely turned him on. 

And apparently there was no denying it to Merlin either, as he hauled himself away from the desk and circled Arthur in his chair.

“You can try and hide it all you want. But I’d have to be stupid not to notice, you know.”

As he trailed a finger across Arthur’s back and Arthur shivered. Normally he was the one who teased and tormented Merlin, not the other way around. And he wasn’t entirely sure he liked this sudden turnabout in their roles. 

He picked up his quill and dipped it in the inkwell, trying to pretend he was unaffected, and cleared his throat. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice strained.

He could feel Merlin’s presence behind him, and he inhaled sharply as Merlin slid a hand over his shoulder and down the center of his chest. Merlin, he decided, was a menace. He was like one those sirens from that Odyssey poem he had read when he was younger and his father had tried to make him study Greek. He was thankful for the layer of cloth between them; he wasn’t sure he would be able to resist Merlin’s touch without it.

Merlin’s hand slid lower, and he pressed his lips to Arthur’s throat.

“You can’t fool me, sire,” he whispered as he kissed Arthur’s neck, slowly and torturously. Fuck, Merlin didn’t even need magic to get him as hard as a rock. This seductive, sultry Merlin was enough to make him feel like he was a randy young man, coming of age again simply with his voice. “I know you. And I know _this_ —” his hand slid down further, down to Arthur’s crotch and he pressed his hand against Arthur’s cock, “—is because you _like it_. You like magic. It turns you on.”

“K—keep telling yourself t—that,” Arthur said, attempting to write as Merlin rubbed his hand coaxingly up and down his length.

Abruptly, he found his chair being pulled away from the desk. 

“Admit it,” said Merlin as he began to walk towards the bed. He crooked a finger at Arthur. “If it doesn’t turn you on, why do you react like that every time I do magic?”

“Like what?” 

Merlin’s eyes flared gold and a wave of pleasure rippled through Arthur, making him gasp. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up, Merlin,” said Arthur, wagging a finger at him warningly. 

“Upastige draca,” whispered Merlin, and a pair of tiny flame-dragons danced around Arthur, chivvying him out of his chair and towards the bed. 

The dragons fell away into nothingness when Merlin’s eyes flared gold again. Arthur felt that same thrill flood through him. So Merlin could apparently control when he did and didn’t affect Arthur, the bastard. It was time that he exerted some kind of control over this situation. He stalked over to Merlin and looped his hand around the nape of his neck, pulling him close. 

“I’m going to make you pay for that,” he murmured as he kissed Merlin, pushing his stupid jacket off his stupid shoulders, his fingers tugging at his stupid belt. Arthur pressed Merlin back onto the bed and Merlin smiled into the kiss. The little shit. He’d planned this and Arthur was playing right into his sneaky, sneaky hands.

Arthur carried on regardless, pulling open the laces of Merlin’s breeches and urging him to take his shirt off. And once he was completely naked, it was Arthur’s turn to be pleased. All that pale milky skin and dark hair against his red velvet sheets was so enticing, he longed to mark it. To claim it somehow as his territory.

He stripped off his own clothes and swiftly joined Merlin on the bed, holding down his wrists and staring him in the eyes. Merlin licked his lips, and he must have performed some kind of magic because his eyes were golden again and Arthur found himself pressed against him, unable to help the way his hips jerked as he started to thrust against his servant.

As he rutted against Merlin, the dry friction gradually got slicker with his own pre-release. Arthur shifted a little and pressed his forehead against Merlin’s, letting out a low moan as their cocks slid against each other. Suddenly, Arthur found himself flipped around and his back arched as a sensation that he now recognised as magic flooded through him, and Merlin stared down from above. 

Merlin grasped both of them with his soft, warm hands, the slight calluses on palm and fingertips from years of work adding a much welcomed friction to the mix as Arthur bucked up into Merlin’s fist. Merlin always got off as though his life depended on it. As a contrast, Arthur sometimes liked to tease an orgasm out of him as slowly as possible. No such thoughts entered Arthur’s mind tonight, though, as Merlin bent his head and kissed him, working his hand fast. He was far too desperate to get off himself tonight, and Merlin’s finesse—or lack thereof—was a good fit. He fucked and thrust into the tight circle of Merlin’s hand, grunting as he finally shot his hot, wet release over his chest and belly. Merlin flopped down on top of him before Arthur rolled him off onto his side so that he could wrap his hand around Merlin’s fingers, still wrapped around his own cock, to help jerk him off. He watched with eager eyes to see if Merlin’s eyes would turn gold once more when he came.

It didn’t take him long. A long cry spilled from his lips as he stiffened—his eyes closed damn him—and came. Merlin rolled onto his side next to Arthur and murmured something, his eyes still closed, and all the mess between them disappeared, leaving Arthur’s skin tingling. 

Merlin hummed contentedly and snuggled into Arthur’s side. Arthur kissed his head and tugged the blankets over them, ready for a good night's sleep. 

***

Winter finally came to Camelot, the weather turning cold and frigid. Servants and nobles alike hurried around the castle, all eager to get to the next room where they might at least be assured of a warm fire. 

The council met less frequently, and Arthur held audiences with his people on a monthly basis, rather than a weekly one as he did during the warmer months. The townspeople didn’t mind this much, likewise preferring to stay inside and sheltered as much as possible. And of course, it was impossible even to train the knights once the snow arrived.

Arthur was frustrated. He spent large amounts of his time prowling his rooms like a caged animal, waiting for Merlin to return from helping Gaius make medicines and tend to the sick. He also thought about how to rescind his father’s laws on magic, composing his speech countless times. It needed to be perfect, it needed to be reassuring and it needed to be given at the right time.

They continued to get sporadic letters from other kingdoms and worrisome reports of the Saxon army massing near their borders. They wouldn’t attack now—it would be madness to do so in winter—but it made Arthur uneasy. What exactly was Morgana planning? Did she have the numbers to conquer Camelot once more? Could he be doing more to prepare them during these winter hours?

All these thoughts and more haunted Arthur, and he longed for it to be spring so that he could put all his plans into motion. He was a man of action, not inaction, and sitting still and staying put did not suit him.

The doors to his chambers flung open and Arthur looked over from his window. Merlin hurried in, letting the doors close behind him.

“Hey,” he offered as he hurried over to the fireside. He stuck a poker into the embers and started to pile a few smaller logs on as he rubbed his hands and shuffled from foot to foot. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and his hair damp from melted snow. “Any news?”

“Not today,” said Arthur with a sigh. He wasn’t sure if the days were better with or without a new update.

“Don’t worry,” said Merlin. “You’re doing all you can to prepare. Morgana won’t stand a chance.”

Arthur strode over to Merlin and divested him of his wet jacket, sure that that couldn’t be doing him any good. “We should be doing more. If only we could figure out what she was planning.”

“We’ll be fine,” Merlin reassured him with a kiss. His lips were freezing. 

Arthur wished that he had Merlin’s confidence, almost as much as he wished that Merlin would remember to wear a cape when he went out of the castle. He’d catch his death one of these days. But Merlin’s work with Gaius was important. Arthur had given his quiet approval for Merlin to use magic with Gaius for the purposes of improving their medicines, and while he couldn’t grant them permission to use magic for healing, at least not yet, he did intend to have Merlin offer it eventually, despite his claims that he was not particularly adept. He would have plenty of time to practice. Arthur had been readying rooms in the abandoned South tower for some time now. He intended to give them to Merlin soon. It was high time that he had his own rooms within the castle, even though he didn’t strictly need them. It would be a safe space for Merlin to practice magic, and eventually, it would be a fitting place for him in his role as court sorcerer, which Arthur intended to award him.

It helped somewhat to have this little secret pet project, to know that he was preparing a pathway to give Merlin the recognition that he truly deserved, but right now, Arthur would take what he could when it came to distractions. Something that Merlin was good at providing.

“Wrap that around you,” Arthur told him, handing him a blanket. “I won’t have you falling sick. I… I need you to stay well.”

Merlin looked at him with surprise, making Arthur’s heart hurt. Had he really given Merlin the impression that he didn’t care about his well-being? That he had ever _not_ cared about him? In the past, he had joked that they couldn’t be friends. But they were way past that now.

“Actually, forget that,” he told Merlin, pulling the blanket away and grabbing him by the hand. “I have a better way to _personally_ ensure that you get warmed up.” 

“Yeah?” asked Merlin with a smile.

“Indeed. In fact, I am led to believe skin to skin contact is the best way to share body heat…”

“I like your way of thinking,” said Merlin, his grin growing wider. “And as a physician, I can confirm, it is indeed the best way.”

Arthur hurried over to the bed, just a step out of reach from Merlin, stripping off his shirt and breeches, before hopping into bed. Merlin swiftly followed him, pressing his freezing cold skin against Arthur’s and making him shiver.

At first, Arthur’s offer had been a bit tongue-in-cheek, but being able to feel for himself how cold Merlin was, he grew concerned and instantly drew him close under the covers. 

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he grumbled, repeating his earlier sentiment. 

“I’m not sure it’s in me to,” Merlin confessed. 

Arthur bit his lip and held back his desire to make a suggestive remark.

“Shut up,” Merlin responded anyway.

“Idiot,” said Arthur, rubbing his manservant’s cold arms with his hands. Merlin melted into his touch, and they lay there together, Merlin’s head pillowed on Arthur’s shoulder. The steady thud-thud of Merlin’s heart against his chest all that Arthur needed at that moment in time.

“We should stay in bed tomorrow,” he declared. “The snow is coming down fast; the streets in the lower town will be impassable by morning. There will be no council meeting, no training. We should take the day to ourselves.”

“But Gaius—”

“Will manage fine on his own. Besides, I’ve seen him giving jobs to that young lad, Kay. Before you know it you’ll find yourself muscled out of the job.” 

“Gaius would never—” protested Merlin before Arthur quietened him with a kiss.

“I know,” he said. Though if Arthur had his way, Gaius would soon be training a new apprentice to take over Merlin’s position. “I know that he’d never kick you out. But wouldn’t you rather move in with me full-time? Plenty of space, a warm fire in the bedroom…”

“Mmm, my room does feel rather cold these days.”

“You know what… I have another way you could keep warm, besides a warm fire...”

Arthur lifted the covers and nodded downwards. Merlin huffed out a laugh, but he dived beneath them anyway, his chilly hands on Arthur’s chest making Arthur jump and gasp.

Merlin chuckled as with a gentle hand Arthur pushed his head further south.

“Less laughing, more sucking,” he ordered.

“Yes, sire,” came Merlin’s sarcastic response, though he did begin to comply as he licked a stripe along Arthur’s cock.

Arthur let out a sigh of contentment. Okay, so this had started out as a means to take care of Merlin. But he deserved a little bit of a treat too, didn’t he? And it wasn’t as if Merlin could claim that he didn’t love this, too, because Arthur knew full-well that Merlin did. There were some days where Merlin would just turn up in their rooms and fall to his knees, ready and desperate to give him head. Sometimes, it was because Merlin was having a bad day, and Arthur had learned to tell when it was one of those days, though he hadn’t always known what it was that caused the day to be bad. Sometimes it had been losing townspeople that Merlin had been hoping would pull through, or a long strenuous day preparing for some big feast or another. Other days were a complete mystery to Arthur, and he wondered now if maybe some of them had to do with magic. 

Today was not one of the bad days, thankfully. 

Merlin hummed happily as he slid his lips over the head of Arthur’s cock, and Arthur groaned. He slid his fingers through the silky strands of Merlin’s hair as Merlin bobbed his head beneath the covers. He was definitely warmer now. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Arthur told him. “You have such a _good_ mouth.”

Clever fingers rolled his balls in one hand whilst the other hand pumped his length, and Merlin focused his talented lips and tongue on the head of Arthur’s cock, dipping his tongue beneath his foreskin. His fingers crept lower, rubbing along Arthur’s taint.

“Ah, gods!” exclaimed Arthur, his gut curling with warmth already. Merlin was too good at this.

The fingers quested further until Merlin found Arthur’s hole and circled it teasingly. Arthur’s breath hitched. This was a change from the usual. Normally, Arthur fucked Merlin. It was just what they did and how they liked things. And since they both liked it, they hadn’t seen the need to change it. Arthur wasn’t opposed to the alternative, per se. He just hadn’t thought that Merlin was interested in fucking him. 

Under the covers, Merlin stopped, as though he was waiting for Arthur to respond either way so that he would know how to proceed. Arthur reached out blindly towards the little cabinet beside his bed. His fingers closed around a vial of _something_ and he shoved it under the sheet towards Merlin’s head. Merlin’s hand closed around his and he accepted the jar. 

Arthur took a deep breath and bit his lip as he lay back and waited to see what Merlin would do. Merlin pulled off with a pop and Arthur heard him uncork the vial, then warm, slippery fingers returned to his hole, a single digit slowly, gently pushing in. It didn’t hurt—Merlin had made sure that his finger was well and truly slick—but it felt a bit strange and unfamiliar. He wasn’t sure yet that he liked it, but it must be good somehow. Otherwise there was no way in hell he’d be able to get Merlin to let him do it, and no way that Merlin would love it as much as he did. And he really, really did. Arthur had spent many evenings driving Merlin crazy with his fingers and, eventually, his cock.

So he held his breath for a moment before letting it out, his body tense at the strange intrusion. 

“Relax,” said Merlin, licking a stripe up his cock.

Arthur bit back a retort and tried to focus on relaxing his body, releasing the tension and just lying there whilst Merlin did whatever the hell he was going to do. 

As Merlin thrust his finger in and out, Arthur realised that it wasn’t all that bad, once you got past the initial weirdness. But he was still wondering why exactly Merlin loved it so much. He jumped a little as Merlin pushed a second digit in on the next thrust and clenched around him. Merlin took Arthur’s cock into his mouth again and started to suck him off as he worked, and suddenly Arthur jumped as a spark of pleasure ran through him. He could feel Merlin’s lips curving into a smile for a moment as he pressed inside Arthur again, and Arthur cried out at the intense sensation. Merlin added yet another finger, and Arthur hissed at the burn.

Once all three fingers were all the way in, Merlin crooked his fingers, in the same way Arthur usually did for him. He pushed them in further, and Arthur let out a yell as his body arched up from the mattress. 

“Ah, ah! Merlin. I—I, if you keep on doing that I’m going to—to come,” he warned, tugging sharply on Merlin’s hair.

Merlin pulled off of him and poked his head out of the covers. “Well, we couldn’t have that, my lord,” he said with a cheeky grin. “I want you to last at least a little while longer.”

He knelt between Arthur’s legs, pushing his knees apart to allow him to shuffle closer. “I figured we might want to do this face-to-face so that you can tell me if you want me to stop or…”

“Merlin… Just do it,” Arthur groused, unwilling to be fussed over. There was no way he was going to wimp out after having agreed to Merlin fucking him.

“Okay,” said Merlin, his voice a little unsteady.

He looped his arms under one of Arthur’s legs and lifted it as he shuffled closer still, using the other hand to line up his cock as he started to press in. 

Arthur bit his lip and reminded himself to relax as much as possible. But as Merlin pushed in it stung and Arthur was unable to stop a hiss escaping his lips. Merlin’s cock felt like a huge intrusion compared to his fingers. Then Merlin murmured something strange, and his eyes flickered gold. It made Arthur’s breath hitch as he suddenly felt almost wet down there, and Merlin slid all the way inside him. Everything suddenly felt better, easier. It was still a foreign experience, but it felt good. And then Merlin started to move, gently thrusting in and out, the slick easing the way, and Arthur groaned, suddenly understanding why Merlin liked this so much. 

He wrapped both legs loosely around Merlin’s waist as Merlin shifted onto his hands and began to increase his pace. Merlin pressed his forehead against Arthur’s.

“Okay?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

“Yes, don’t stop!” Arthur gasped. 

Merlin smiled down at him and kissed him, continuing to move, picking up speed again as he pulled away and really started to focus on the job in hand. 

Arthur’s fingers dug into his sheets in a death grip as he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensation of Merlin’s cock pushing and nudging inside him, making him see stars. He tipped his head back and groaned, the noises knocked out of him with every thrust.

A set of familiar, strong, lean fingers grasped his cock and started to tug it in smooth practiced movements. 

“Arthur, Arthur…” Merlin murmured, his face flushed with effort as Arthur glanced up at him. “So, so good. So perfect. Look at you.” He pressed his lips to Arthur’s neck and sucked gently. “I want to… I want to show everyone that we belong together.”

“Do it,” said Arthur, shuddering as Merlin’s lips traced up and down his neck before settling on a spot that was definitely going to be difficult to hide. He cried out and arched as Merlin sucked hard, marking him, the pleasure-pain of it going straight to his cock.

When he pulled away, Merlin ran his fingers over the tender skin, admiring his work, a satisfied smile curving on his lips before he started to thrust faster, his hand pumping with speed as Arthur felt heat curling and building in his gut.

Often, Arthur liked to drag things out and make sex last, driving Merlin to a blabbering mess. But now that their roles were reversed, he could understand why Merlin always liked to go fast, why he wanted—no, needed, this was definitely a need—to come as soon as possible. He was glad Merlin wasn’t going to draw things out for him. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” murmured Merlin. “You liking it? You liking my—my—”

Merlin stilled above him as he pumped his release deep inside Arthur, managing a few more thrusts before he collapsed.

Arthur grunted and almost pushed him off before he thought the better of it. He wanted to enjoy the sensation of Merlin inside him for a few moments more. If they were going to do this more often though, he would have to teach Merlin that it was outright rude to come before he had. He always prided himself on making sure that Merlin got off before he did. It was only good manners. Though he could hardly depend on _Merlin_ to have good manners. He wriggled his hand between them in an attempt to get to his neglected cock.

“Oh, shit,” said Merlin, glancing down. He pushed himself up and Arthur grimaced as he pulled out. “Sorry.”

He batted Arthur’s hand away and replaced it with his own, then slid further down to take Arthur into his mouth again. Arthur voiced his appreciation. Much better. Merlin got to work using all his best tricks, with an energy unheard of for him after orgasm. He was often useless after he’d come. But he had some serious making up to do. And though he’d never say it, Arthur was thankful, because honestly, while he’d have been happy to get off with Merlin’s hand, a blowjob was infinitely better.

Arthur lay back and let the pleasure ride through him, feeling his orgasm starting to build again. He slid his fingers between the silky strands of Merlin’s hair and felt at home. He was startled out of his contentment when Merlin’s fingers slipped beneath his balls and he gently pushed a fingertip inside. He slowly pumped it in and out, the mixture of oil and come providing plenty of slick, before shoving another finger in alongside. He crooked them both with confidence, and Arthur came suddenly with a loud yell down Merlin’s throat.

“Well, that was pretty great,” panted Merlin as he pulled off and collapsed next to Arthur. “I’d love to do it again sometime. How—how was it for you?”

“I think I might be talked into it," said Arthur, smiling to himself.

“I might hold you to that,” chuckled Merlin.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Arthur awoke with a contented smile. He was warm and comfortable in his vast bed, and next to him lay Merlin, his dark hair a stark contrast to the Pendragon-red pillows, still dead to the world. His face looked slack and young, with all his worries and troubles stripped away by dreams. Arthur often wondered what Merlin’s dreams must be like. He certainly had vivid nightmares sometimes. More often than he liked to remember, Arthur had been awakened by Merlin’s cries and thrashing, though he always refused to talk about them, despite Arthur’s best efforts. He wished that Merlin would share them with him, but he was willing to wait until he was ready. Maybe he would now that he’d confessed his magic to Arthur. 

But right now, Arthur was going to enjoy this quiet moment. He didn’t often get time like this, and it was unlikely that anyone would disturb him this morning. With the rate the snow had been falling last night, he had no doubt that many people would be doing the same—staying in bed for as long as possible. Arthur liked sleeping in at the best of times, but with Merlin in his bed, it had definitely become exponentially more difficult to force himself to get up.

“Morning,” croaked Merlin with a yawn, stretching like a cat.

“Mmm,” agreed Arthur.

“So, what should we do today?” Merlin asked.

“As little as possible,” drawled Arthur, turning onto his side and starting to nuzzle Merlin’s neck.

“Oh, I see. So you want me to do all the work, just like usual, huh?”

Arthur smirked. “Well, I _am_ the king, _Mer_ lin.”

“You’re an arse, more like it,” said Merlin, pouting and rolling away, gathering the blankets around him.

Arthur chased after him, rudely tugging the blankets back, and they wrestled each other for them for a few minutes until Arthur finally pinned Merlin to the mattress, holding Merlin’s wrists above his head and keeping him from squirming with his body weight.

“I win.” Arthur grinned. 

Merlin merely cocked an eyebrow at him, and his eyes flashed golden. Arthur’s world flipped, and he suddenly found himself pinned down and extremely turned on. He wriggled beneath Merlin, but he was barely able to budge. He had forgotten how strong Merlin could be, when he was determined to be, having had years of carrying armour, bathwater and so many other things to and fro.

“My, my,” chuckled Merlin. “How the tables have turned, sire!”

“Merlin,” growled Arthur, struggling against his restraints once more. “I am the king. I demand that you let me go,”

“Demand, huh?” 

“Yes. Let me go.”

Merlin did as asked, but his eyes flickered golden and Arthur felt himself still held in place by invisible bonds. Arthur snarled and thrashed around in the bed. This was _not_ what he’d had in mind when he’d woken up. When he had awoken, he had envisioned a day of snuggling up together under the covers, giving each other lazy handjobs and maybe each a blowjob or two. Not to be held down by Merlin with, quite literally, the blink of an eye.

Merlin sat back, defiant and triumphant. “No. I don’t think I will,” he said.

Arthur bit back a retort. He had always promised himself that he wouldn’t use his position over Merlin as leverage in their relationship. At least, not seriously. There would always be somewhat of a power imbalance, because of their positions, and also because Arthur knew how much Merlin loved to be bossed around sometimes. But he wanted their relationship to come from a place of being equals. And really, though he hated it, Merlin was really equalling the playing field right now.

Running his hands down Arthur’s chest, Merlin smiled, tracing the muscles that had strained and pulled taut in Arthur’s current predicament. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, his fingers still following lines of muscle and his eyes transfixed. He ducked his head and his lips and tongue trailed in their wake, making Arthur squirm with a mixture of ticklishness and delight. 

Merlin paused to take a lick at Arthur’s nipple, swirling his tongue around before biting lightly. Arthur closed his eyes and a moan escaped his lips, unbidden. Merlin continued his assault as his fingers found Arthur’s other nipple and rubbed it firmly. Arthur arched up with a cry as Merlin switched, the sensation overwhelming. And then as Merlin’s lips traveled further down, he realised that the sensations still continued. He prised open his eyes and Merlin looked up at him with a cheeky grin, his eyes golden. He licked and nibbled at Arthur’s hip as he felt another set of phantom lips start to caress his neck and teeth tugging and then sucking at his ear.

“Ah, ah! Fuck!” he cried, surprised at himself. He was normally more composed, more in control of himself, but he couldn’t help it. Merlin was waging war on several of his most sensitive spots simultaneously. The actual Merlin, not the phantom mouths, kissed the inside of his thigh, his morning stubble scraping lightly against Arthur’s skin, driving him wild. Merlin’s hand rested on Arthur’s belly, a heavy weight, low, but not low enough. 

“Relax,” Merlin whispered. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

His fingers moved lower, completely bypassing Arthur’s cock, and Arthur huffed with frustration.

“What’s that you’re always telling me?” Merlin said, amused. “ ‘Be patient, _Mer_ lin.’ You should take your own advice.”

Arthur opened his eyes to try to glower and have some choice words with his manservant, but as he went to speak, all that came out was a moan, as Merlin gently rolled his balls in his hand and kissed his way all around Arthur’s cock before taking a ball into his mouth.

“Ah, fuck,” said Arthur, pulling at his magical restraints, desperate to have his hand in Merlin’s hair, to feel the strands slide through his fingers, to grip and tug a little in their usual manner. But this wasn’t their usual way of playing, and Merlin continued to ravish his body with his own and his magic, unrepentant. 

Finally, finally, Merlin released his balls and pressed a kiss to the base of Arthur’s cock, running his tongue up along the length of it and lapping up his pre-release. Arthur thrashed his head. It was too much, far too much, and he was sure he was going to come. Merlin dipped his tongue inside his foreskin teasingly, before he eventually took the head of Arthur’s cock into his mouth and started to suck.

Arthur exploded within seconds, and for a moment, he thought he had died and gone to heaven. When he finally came back to himself, his vision gradually focused on Merlin, who was kneeling between his legs, rapidly stripping his cock. As Arthur watched, his face slackened and he came with a groan in long white stripes along Arthur’s chest, a few strings catching Arthur’s chin. 

With a contented sigh, Merlin flopped down onto the bed next to him, reaching for blankets that had been kicked off in their haste.

Arthur smiled and snuggled deep beneath the covers, satisfied and serene. Merlin curled up into his side and together they fell back into a peaceful slumber.

***

As winter raged on, cold and snowy outside the castle walls, inside the castle inhabitants continued the battle to keep warm as they went about their normal business. At this time of year, it was normal for people to spend as much time sequestered in their chambers beside a roaring fire as possible, and even Arthur as king was no exception, though he hated not being able to train. 

Servants scurried about the hallways at a pace, eager to finish their work; whether that be fetching meals for their masters or mistresses, gathering firewood for their rooms, or any other multitude of tasks that had been assigned to them that kept the castle running smoothly. All would hurry to return to the warmest spot of the castle they could access if possible.

For Merlin, that was primarily Arthur’s chambers. He still attended to Gaius, though, making sure the old physician was warm and comfortable with plenty of firewood and as many fresh herbs as he could manage to find in the gloom of the forest (and if he used magic to grow some of those plants that Gaius was in most desperate need of, neither of them mentioned it). He made sure that Gaius was well-fed and didn’t have to traverse the icy-slushy streets of the town when he could, going on rounds and treating Camelot’s citizens himself and only getting Gaius to accompany him on the trickiest cases that required a more experienced hand. Nevertheless, the old man surprised him with his wiriness and alertness even at his senior age; Gaius was more mobile and agile than many of the nobles, and he did not take Merlin’s fussing well.

“You fuss too much over an old man, Merlin,” he scolded. “You’ve given me the herbs I require, helped prepare tomorrow's medcines, ensured that I have plenty of candles and firewood. I’ll be fine. I have Geoffrey stopping by this evening to keep me company. Why don’t you head off to Arthur’s for the night?”

“If you’re sure…” said Merlin, hesitantly. He’d been feeling guilty about the number of evenings he’d been spending with Arthur of late, but it was difficult to resist the lure of Arthur’s bed and of Arthur himself, of course, who was often so breathtakingly beautiful he could have been an oil painting.

“Of course. Enjoy yourself,” Gaius said, a knowing twinkle in his eye, which made Merlin’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. It was all very well to be having fantastic sex with Arthur, but quite another to know that Gaius, of all people, was aware of it.

Merlin hurried out of the physician’s chambers and down the stairs, opting to cross the courtyard rather than taking the longer route through a winding set of corridors to reach the King’s chambers. He gathered his coat around him and shuddered as he trudged through the snow on the ground and a bitter wind swept through him, thinking lovingly of Arthur’s chambers with the great roaring fire in the hearth, and the fur rug on the floor in front of it. Merlin had many fond and pleasurable memories of that rug, just the _smell_ of it. Leather, polish, oak and that unmistakable smell of _Arthur_. And if he was lucky, maybe Arthur would have called another servant to arrange for a bath, though that much might be wishful thinking.

He ran up the steps and let himself in through the door as quickly as possible, not wanting to let too much icy air in and draw the ire of the guards. Not that this part of the castle was really all that much warmer than outside its walls, but at least it was sheltered from the wind. Merlin carried on through the castle, taking the route that he could walk in his sleep, and had most definitely walked whilst half-asleep on more than one occasion. He turned a corner and then started to climb the stairs that led to the king's private chambers. 

Merlin nodded at the two men standing guard in the corridor. “Evening John, Thomas!” he said cheerfully.

“Merlin,” they replied, letting him pass without hesitation, very well used to his comings and goings as the king's manservant. 

Flinging open the doors (Merlin took great pleasure in startling Arthur), Merlin strode into the room. Sure enough, Arthur jumped, hurriedly gathering some papers together and shoving them into a drawer.

“Merlin!” he said, standing up. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, depositing his bag in a chair at the table and then heading over to him. “Finished with all the medicines early today.”

“What’s with the bag?” Arthur asked. “I thought you already had everything you needed here.”

That was mostly true. Merlin had a small section in Arthur’s wardrobe which contained a spare jacket and a few of his older shirts and breeches. A belt and a few pairs of socks were thrown down at the bottom. He’d never had much in the way of spare clothing, but Arthur had made sure to get him a few more shirts to replace the ones he’d kept here, including a bright purple shirt which was secretly one of Merlin’s favourites. His bag wasn’t for clothes – instead, it contained Merlin’s dearest and most valuable possession: his spell book. He still wasn’t sure if he was making the right choice by revealing to Arthur that he had it. He’d been using magic a little bit, here and there, mostly during sex. Arthur didn’t seem to object to it, and in fact, Merlin was a little bit proud of his skills there. But he wanted Arthur to see what magic could really do. This was a big risk, but hopefully a well-calculated one; if Arthur took it well, it might open his mind to the reality of magic, rather than the twisted view his father had instilled in him.

“Oh, yeah. I do. I… brought a book. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Why would I? So long as you don’t expect me to read it to you.”

“W—What if... What if it was a book of magic?” Merlin asked, standing a short distance away from Arthur’s desk, waiting with much trepidation.

Arthur looked up sharply. “A magic book? Where did you get something like that? No, no. Let me guess. Gaius? Show me,” he commanded.

Merlin made his way over to his bag, and pulled out his spell book with a shaking hand. He took a deep breath before turning to Arthur and offering it to him.

Taking it from him, Arthur placed it on the table, looking at the cover for a few moments whilst Merlin watched on anxiously. Then, decisively, he opened the book and started to flick through the pages, a look of concentration on his face. He paused on a page, scowling.

“What language is this?” he asked, pointing to a spell written in runes across one page. “I recognise the other; Father made me study Latin for long enough. But I’ve never seen this before.”

Merlin got a bit closer and leaned in towards the book. “It is the language of the old religion.”

“And you can read it?” Arthur asked.

Nodding, Merlin said, “My mother taught me when I was small.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “How? How would she know how to write she’s just a—”

“A peasant?” Merlin finished, letting his disdain for Arthur’s attitude show. “Gaius taught her. He’s not a noble either, and yet, he’s one of the most educated men in this castle, with perhaps the exception of Geoffrey. Anyway, Mother said he always had a thirst for knowledge, and a gift to share it with others. So he taught her, too.”

“Your mother must have known Gaius for a long time,” commented Arthur, his tone more tempered and respectful. Merlin knew him better than to expect him to actually apologise properly, but this comment in particular tickled him, and he laughed out loud. Now who was uneducated? 

“You could say that,” he replied. “Gaius is her brother.”

Arthur glanced over in shock. “What? How? And why didn’t I know this?”

Merlin shrugged as he took the book from Arthur and placed it down on the table.

“Through their father’s side. Different mothers. After his first wife—Gaius’ mother—died, my grandfather remarried. I think my mother was a bit of a surprise. It’s why Gaius sent Balinor—my father to her. To try to keep him safe.”

“And why your mother sent you here, to his care. Even though Camelot is a ridiculous place to send a sorcerer for safekeeping,” said Arthur, surmising the rest of the story.

Merlin nodded, his fingers tracing the cover of his most beloved book. “I know it sounds silly, but she thought it for the best. When I came here, I couldn’t always control it. Sometimes things just happened. And when you live in a small village… there just comes a point where there are too many strange occurrences or coincidences to write things off. She thought I’d be less noticeable here if I came and stayed with Gaius, and that he would be able to help me to get it under control. I didn’t know any spells before I came here, and spells help to shape the magic, to direct it.” 

Merlin took a seat along with Arthur.

“When I came here, I thought I was a monster—”

“No, Merlin. You were never a monster,” said Arthur gently.

Merlin smiled softly at him. “I know that now, I think. But back then, I knew nobody like me. Even now… I still get described as ‘special’. And I didn’t want to be. But coming here… I found out why I am the way that I am. My purpose, Arthur—” he said, reaching out to touch Arthur’s hand, “is to protect you. To keep you safe.”

Arthur scoffed. “I’m the King, Merlin. And a knight of Camelot. I’m perfectly able to protect myself.”

“Oh, really?” asked Merlin. 

His eyes fixed on a set of Arthur’s throwing daggers on the other side of the room. He lifted a finger and sent one hurtling towards him, halting it a hair's breadth from Arthur’s face. It hung in place, right between his eyes.

Arthur swallowed heavily as he froze, not having had the time to so much as react. His eyes darted over to Merlin, and Merlin blinked and let the dagger clatter harmlessly to the table.

“Have you any idea how many times I’ve saved your life? And that’s not including at the times that I helped with a curse, or a beast that was attacking Camelot.”

“Oh, like when you broke the spell with Morgana, you mean? And released the dragon?” spat Arthur. “That kind of help?”

That cut Merlin deeply, though he knew that he deserved it. He had deliberately humiliated Arthur, a proud man, a proud king, and the man that he loved. For what? To make a point? 

He drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m sorry, I deserved that. But the thing is, because of Camelot’s laws on magic, there are a lot of things that happen that can’t be solved with a sword or a fight. Magical threats. And when I came here, that was when I realised my purpose: to help protect you from the things that you _can’t_ see, that you don’t know about.”

Arthur was silent for a long while. This was not how Merlin had envisioned tonight going. The two of them did trade barbs sometimes, especially back before they had got together, but they rarely fought or argued—at least, not seriously—these days. They sometimes had heated disagreements about the kingdom, but that was different; that wasn’t personal. Merlin held back a sigh as he continued to wait for Arthur to respond.

“I want you to teach me,” said Arthur finally. “You’re right. There’s so much I don’t know. So much I’ve never been permitted to know. I want to learn as much as I can about magic. So. Teach me.”

“I don’t know where to start, I mean… I’m flattered that you think that I’m qualified to teach you, but surely Gaius would be better to—”

“When I want Gaius to teach me, I’ll ask him,” Arthur interrupted. “ I’m asking _you_ , Merlin.”

“Fine,” said Merlin, sitting back in his chair. “What do you want to know?”


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Merlin awoke to the winter sun shining in his eyes through a crack in the curtain. With a thought, he used magic to pull them fully closed; his head was throbbing as though he’d overindulged in Camelot’s finest wines the night before. He and Arthur had talked way into the night about Merlin’s past, and it had been equal parts relieving, anxiety-inducing and outright tiring, stripping away so many of the layers he had used to protect himself and hide away from the world and letting Arthur in. But he was glad that he had done it and glad that they had finally talked about magic. Arthur hadn’t really revealed much about how he was feeling, but it was a lot to take in and Arthur always needed time to think about things. Arthur would mull it over for a few more days before he would really process it all. At least he seemed satisfied for now, and he was willing to listen and learn from Merlin. Though Merlin’s own knowledge of magic was rather slim, he was resourceful, asking Gaius and Kilgharrah for help when he needed it and happy to share what he had learned with the king, though whether Arthur would find it useful or entertaining remained to be seen. Merlin’s knowledge was more practical than anything else. He was much more likely to react first, and then, if that wasn’t successful, he would try to learn why and how to defeat the problem at hand. 

As he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stretched, starting to properly wake up, Merlin realised that he was alone in the vast bed. He shot up, instantly alert, his eyes darting around the room to find Arthur. Finally he spotted him, seated at his writing desk in the far corner, the light from the window burnishing his golden hair as he scratched away at a piece of parchment with his quill. He was writing quickly, which definitely meant he was trying to write down his thoughts or feelings before they left him. He glanced up at Merlin and carried on scribbling a few more words before discarding his quill.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said with an amused smile.

“You’re awake.”

“Yes, very good _Mer_ lin. Your powers of observation are excellent this morning, I must say.”

“But it’s early. You never get up early,” said Merlin with confusion.

“I’m the King, Merlin. Can’t laze around in bed all day as though I have nothing to do, unlike _some_ people.”

Merlin laughed. He smirked and cocked an eyebrow in what he _hoped_ was a seductive manner. “You can’t fool me, sire. You _like it_ when I laze around in your bed.”

Arthur pushed his chair back from the desk, the wood scraping against the stone. “I do,” Arthur agreed in a dangerous tone. “But I like it more when you fetch me my breakfast.” 

As he resettled himself at the dining table in the middle of the room, Merlin sighed, realising that morning sex was not on the menu today. He pulled the blankets aside and stepped out of the bed, hissing at the freezing cold floor. He dressed hurriedly in the clothes he’d discarded the night before. Some mornings, Merlin would push back to get some lazy morning sex, but Arthur was in a weird mood and Merlin couldn’t quite figure it out. Either way, Arthur was always better humoured with a full belly. So breakfast it was.

“Back soon,” Merlin called as he headed for the door.

When he returned from the kitchen with a tray laden with food, Merlin found that Arthur had gravitated back to his writing desk and was now reading a piece of paper. He looked up as Merlin came in and put the paper back on the desk. Merlin was instantly curious. Maybe once Arthur had started to eat, he might be able to ask him what he’d been writing.

As they ate though, it became apparent that Arthur was in no mood for idle chit-chat.

Merlin had tried a whole range of topics, from court nobles, to the knights, to sword sharpening. But Arthur barely reacted, seeming consumed by his own thoughts. It was on the tip of Merlin’s tongue to ask what it was that was bothering him, but that rarely ended well. Arthur would just get defensive and even more withdrawn. It was better to just eat in relative silence and let Arthur work through whatever it was he was thinking about and wait for him to be ready to talk about it.

Once they had finished Arthur threw his napkin down on the table and pushed his chair away from the table.

“Merlin, I want you to fetch Leon. I intend to make a speech and I need him to inform the town. I also need you to bring me Lord Derwent.”

Merlin nodded eagerly, getting up from the table himself. “Of course, Arthur. I’ll do it immediately.”

“See that you do. I don’t want you distracted by Gwaine again—”

“That was one time! And he cornered me.”

Arthur shot Merlin a fierce look. He’d always been jealous, especially of Gwaine, and it had taken the knight a long time to understand that Merlin belonged to Arthur and no one else. The time that Merlin was referring to, of course, was the time that Gwaine _did_ actually try and kiss him. It had taken all that Merlin had to stop Arthur from killing him. In the end, Gwaine probably got off rather lightly, with Arthur merely making him take on the worst of all the knights duties for an entire month. Still, Arthur had made his point, and since then Gwaine had flirted—Merlin wasn’t sure that he could stop flirting if his life depended on it—but he’d never crossed the line again. 

After fetching various people to Arthur’s chambers, rather a rare occurrence, Merlin ran his usual errands for Gaius. All the while, he wondered what was going on. It wasn’t like Arthur to keep him in the dark; more often than not, he consulted with Merlin if there was something on his mind or a speech to be made. Was Arthur secretly mad at him? Did he no longer trust him now that he knew about the things that Merlin had done? Was this the way it was going to be in the future–good enough to warm his bed, but no longer good enough to confide in? Merlin wasn’t sure that he could live that way, as much as he loved and craved Arthur. He was so proud of the way that Arthur depended on him. 

He pondered it the entire time he foraged for herbs, delivered potions and collected the empty pots and jars. When he got back to Gaius’ chambers in the late afternoon, he sat down at Gaius’ bench in his usual spot with a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” asked Gaius, peering at him over his eye glasses as he continued to stir a salve.

“Nothing,” said Merlin with fake cheer. “Why would you think something’s wrong?”

Gaius looked over at him, his eyebrow raised fiercely. “Because I’ve heard that sigh a hundred times before, and it always means that something is wrong. So,” he put his salve down on the worktop and wiped his hands as he made his way over to Merlin, “what is it?”

Sighing again, Merlin rested his head on his hand, elbow on the table. “It’s Arthur. What? Don’t look at me like that, Gaius. He’s been working on something and talking with an awful lot of other people today. I don’t know what they’re discussing. Arthur’s not mentioned a thing to me. Why is that? He never normally keeps stuff from me.”

Gaius diverted from his route to the table and instead headed for a bookshelf. “I’m not sure,” he said, with his back to Merlin. “You would have to ask the king yourself.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes and wagged his finger at Gaius. “You know!” he said, recognising his mentor's lie for what it was. “He’s told you, just like he’s told Leon and a bunch of the other council members! Well, it can’t be anything like grain stores or food supply, or even trade deals, because he wouldn’t need to call people to his chambers for something like that. He would just wait for the next council meeting. That means it must be something more important. So what is it?” 

He stroked his chin thoughtfully, running though more hypotheticals. Half the time, Arthur would debate the matter at hand with him; the other times, he’d have Merlin write the legislation or speech or whatever matter of Camelot business on his behalf. It was only the really personal things, the things that Arthur considered truly important, that he wrote himself. 

Had there been more news on Morgana? Merlin knew that Arthur had been receiving regular updates about her movements, and it was always a matter that wasn’t far from either of their thoughts. But Merlin had been privy to all those communications. Then, a thought hit him like a punch to the gut. Maybe Arthur had agreed to marry. Maybe he was making an alliance with another kingdom, and he had been making private arrangements to spare Merlin’s feelings, or to stop him from kicking up a fuss and objecting to the whole arrangement. By keeping him in the dark, perhaps Arthur was hoping to prevent all that until it was too late for Merlin to stop it.

“Honestly, Merlin,” said Gaius, his nose in a book as he wandered back to the table, “you’re making too much of a fuss about this. I don’t think you need worry. I’m sure Arthur will tell you when he sees fit.”

“So it IS about him getting married then!” exclaimed Merlin, jumping to his feet.

“What? Marriage? Merlin, n—”

But Merlin was already off, running through the chambers and out the door.

Racing through the halls, Merlin chose the fastest route to Arthur’s chambers. He pushed the doors open with a shove of magic, and they banged noisily against the walls. Inside the room, Arthur visibly jumped. 

“Merlin!” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

“Don’t marry her!” Merlin blurted out.

“What?” said Arthur with confusion. “Marry who?”

“I figured it out. Why you’ve been keeping secrets from me. You want a Queen, heirs. But Arthur, please, talk to me. Don’t shut me out!”

Arthur crossed the floor to him and closed the doors. “Merlin,” he said gently, taking Merlin by the arms. “I’m _not_ marrying _anyone_. Whatever gave you that idea?”

Merlin tried to shrug nonchalantly, staring at his boots. “Why else would you keep things from me?”

“Merlin, look at me,” Arthur ordered in a firm voice. Merlin hesitantly met his eyes, and Arthur smiled at him, one of his radiant, beaming smiles that went straight to Merlin’s heart. He lifted Merlin’s chin with his finger tips. “I promise you, I’m not getting married.” He pressed a kiss to Merlin’s lips. “I would never do that to you. I’m not interested in a Queen, or siring heirs. Heirs are not always born, some are named, and we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? I would never arrange to marry someone else and just _not_ tell you.” 

Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s hand. 

“Now, come on over here. I was about to have a bath. Share it with me.”

Still holding Merlin’s hand, he gave him a gentle tug towards the tub in the middle of the room. Once beside it, Arthur pulled off Merlin’s neckerchief and pressed his lips to his neck. Merlin shivered. 

“Are you sure?” Merlin said in a small voice. “You’ve been keeping an awful lot of secrets lately.”

“As if,” said Arthur, pushing Merlin’s jacket off his shoulders, “I would ever do something like that to you.”

His hands made quick work of Merlin’s belt and the knot at his breeches. Arthur let them fall to Merlin’s knees as he cupped Merlin’s cock through his smallclothes, and Merlin moaned. 

“Why would I want anyone else,” murmured Arthur, tracing a finger lightly along the length of Merlin’s cock, “when I have you right here. A man who is so breathtaking that he drives me to distraction. A man who I yearn to touch, constantly. A man who has the most beautiful face and gorgeous body I’ve ever seen. It’s like you haven’t ever seen yourself, Merlin.”

Merlin chuckled. “I’d say the same about you, b-but you already have a big enough head as it is.”

“You like me like that,” said Arthur, his lips brushing Merlin’s neck as his fingers curled in his hair. “You like that you’re helpless to resist me.”

With a groan, Merlin tilted his head to allow Arthur better access, which he instantly took advantage of. He divested Merlin of his smallclothes and walked him back towards the bathtub.

“Get in,” he whispered.

“I thought we were going to share?” said Merlin.

Arthur nipped at his throat. “Can’t you do anything without quibbling about it? Or do I need to order you?”

Merlin smiled.

“Oh, you want me to order you, do you? Mmm, well, not today, as much as I like that. I _do_ like it when you’re obedient, but that’s not what tonight is about. But soon, I promise.”

“Fine,” said Merlin with a pout.

“Stop that,” ordered Arthur. “Tonight is my night to take care of you. So just let me.”

“All right,” Merlin finally agreed, amused. “You know that it’s not my birthday, right?”

“Of course, I do. Now get in the damn tub, Merlin.”

With a knowing smile, Merlin hurriedly got in the tub. It was a shame that Arthur didn’t want to play tonight; Merlin would have enjoyed it on a personal level, but it would have been no fun if Arthur’s heart wasn’t in it, and tonight, he obviously wanted something different. Not that Merlin could understand why. There were no specific occasions that Merlin could recall, so Arthur wasn’t trying to be romantic for an anniversary. With a wry smile, Merlin recalled the last time Arthur tried to give him a romantic night in the castle; it had been a bit of a disaster, but even though the memory was anything _but_ romantic, it was sweet of him to have made the attempt, and the memory stuck in Merlin’s mind none-the-less. He certainly wasn’t opposed to being fussed over by the king of Camelot.

He leaned back against the tub and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax and letting the heat of the water bring swift relief to his muscles, still tense from a busy day. This was nice. He felt Arthur’s fingers trail across his shoulders, and a shiver traveled down his spine.

Behind him, he heard the rustling of clothing and the soft thud of material falling to the floor. Lips pressed against his neck and traveled up to beneath his ear, where Arthur’s bit softly at the earlobe before sucking it into his mouth. Merlin’s whole body shuddered, and he gripped the edge of the tub, the action going straight to his cock. His ears had always been especially sensitive. 

Arthur continued to tease him with lips and tongue, and Merlin gasped as his hand slid over his chest and stomach before carrying on further below the water line. A moan escaped his lips, and Merlin reached back to tangle his fingers in Arthur’s hair as the king’s hand wrapped around his cock and he started to stroke. Arthur was way too good at handjobs and blowjobs, and just about anything that they did together really. Every time they tried something new, Arthur wouldn’t rest until he was sure that he was as skilled at it as possible, approaching sex in the same way he did training. Merlin wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or not that Arthur applied the same level of effort to both.

After a few minutes, during which Merlin lay back and enjoyed Arthur’s efforts, he heard him shift behind him. 

“Move forward,” Arthur urged him.

Merlin obliged and shuffled forward, and there was a splash as Arthur slid into the water, his legs either side of Merlin’s body. Arthur pulled him back against his chest and as he kissed along Merlin’s jaw, his hand returned to its place on Merlin’s cock.

“So,” managed Merlin finally, relaxing into the warmth of the water and the familiarity of Arthur’s touch. “What’s this really about?”

“I am shocked and offended that you would ever ask that question,” said Arthur, his free hand reaching up to graze Merlin’s nipple. 

Merlin’s breath hitched as Arthur’s fingers pinched and rolled. “S—so you d—do want something then?” Merlin asked, remembering the time that Arthur had given him a fantastic blowjob and in the midst of it Merlin had somehow agreed to inform Gwaine that he was going to the Western Isles, which were infamous for their lack of ale and wines.

Arthur hummed, “Well, after this I’d quite like a reciprocal handjob. And, whenIlegalisemagicIwantyoutobecourtsorcerer,” he rushed out, words all muddling together. He rubbed his thumb over the head of Merlin’s cock and gave his hand a slight twist that tore Merlin’s orgasm out of him with a gasp and an explosion of gold. 

Merlin slumped for a moment, panting to regain his breath before turning sharply and sending water sloshing out of the tub.

“What did you just say?” he asked in a pointed tone. “You _can’t_ ask me that during _sex_. This isn’t a game, Arthur. It’s a big change for the kingdom. You can’t ask me like that. And beside, the answer is no, of course—”

“What”?” exclaimed Arthur. “No? How are you saying no to a job that you were born to have?”

“Because Camelot is not ready! Can you imagine? You renouncing the ban on magic and then putting your _manservant_ in the role of court sorcerer? People will think I bewitched you!”

“Well…” began Arthur.

“You know what I mean. They’ll think that I’m manipulating you, that you’re under a spell and the only reason that you’re legalising magic is because _I’m_ making you! That or they’ll think you're mad. Neither are good options for a king. The people aren’t ready for so much change, and to be quite honest with you, neither am I.”

Arthur frowned at him rather adorably. It was almost a full-on pout. “But I thought you’d want the job. I always pictured you sitting by my side, helping to rule the kingdom.”

Merlin laughed. “Careful, Arthur, it almost sounds as though you’re proposing to me,” he joked.

Arthur stiffened before he rose and got out of the tub, reaching for a bathing sheet. “Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin,” he said gruffly. “Earlier you were trying to talk me out of marrying some unknown princess! If anything, I’d say _you’ve_ got marriage on the brain. Now get out of the tub before you catch a cold.”

Flinging himself into his favourite chair, Arthur sat there, and this time he really was pouting. Merlin hurried out of the tub, grabbing the other sheet to dry himself with.

“Come on, Arthur,” he began as he rubbed down his feet and legs, then moved on to his chest. “I’m sorry, I was just kidding, I know— I know you didn’t mean it that way, of course you didn’t.”

He stepped close to Arthur and threw the towel aside as he got down on his knees in front of him.

“Let me make it up to you, my lord,” he said faintly, watching as a bead of water trailed down Arthur’s chest.

A smile curved on Arthur’s lips. “Yeah? You think that you can? Go ahead then. Give it your best shot.”

“Oh, I know that I can,” said Merlin grinning back at him.

Arthur nodded his head towards his lap. “Go on then, hop to it.”

Merlin shuffled forwards and pushed Arthur’s legs apart so that he could place himself between them. He tugged at the bath sheet so that it fell away, revealing Arthur in all his glory. Merlin smiled again and he trailed his fingers slowly along Arthur’s thigh. Arthur looked down at him, one eyebrow raised as though issuing a challenge; arrogant, cocky.

Huffling out a laugh, Merlin set to work. Trust Arthur to make it some kind of weird competition. He pressed his lips to the inside of Arthur’s thigh, determined to take his time and make Arthur squirm. Two could play at this game, and Merlin would give every bit as well as he got.

He walked his fingers casually up and down Arthur’s inner thigh, enjoying the way it made Arthur’s muscles twitch and jump. Even though Arthur might play things off cool and calm, his body would always betray him eventually. It was already showing how affected Arthur was; his cock had started to swell and harden as Merlin rubbed his face along Arthur’s leg with his day old stubble.

Merlin licked his lips as he sat back a little and watched the way that Arthur’s cock twitched and bobbed with interest.

Arthur cleared his throat.

“Well?” he said. “I’m waiting, Merlin.”

Merlin grinned, not _quite_ ready to give Arthur what he wanted yet. He licked along Arthur’s skin, past his cock and along to his hip. Merlin nipped there with teeth and soothed with his tongue, before finally turning his attention to Arthur’s cock, as beautiful and perfect as the rest of him. He licked at the slit, eager to taste him, lapping up his pre-release before he started to mouth at the head. He slid his lips slowly down Arthur’s length, stopping about halfway down to swirl his tongue around the head before slowly working his way back up. 

Arthur groaned and his fingers slid into Merlin’s hair as he eagerly pushed Merlin’s head down. Merlin let him guide him all the way down until his nose was buried in golden curls.

“Yeah,” said Arthur, breathlessly. “You like that, don’t you? You like my cock buried deep down your throat, so deep, so hard you can’t breathe.”

Merlin started to choke a little as Arthur thrust his hips, and he tried to relax his throat and let Arthur fuck his mouth.

“Mm. Look at you taking it all, just like a good little whore. What would people think if they could see you now? Camelot’s future court sorcerer, so powerful, so full of magic, down on his knees, servicing his king.”

With a muffled groan, Merlin pulled off, needing to take a breath before diving back in to continue deep-throating Arthur, opening and closing his throat around his cock. Arthur dug his fingers hard into his scalp.

“Yes, yes. Just like that, Merlin. I always knew I’d find a good use for your mouth, and I was right. Who knew you’d have such a talent for sucking my cock?”

Merlin shivered and pressed a hand to his own cock to calm his excitement. He loved it when Arthur used him like this. He loved the way he would talk to him, insulting, yet praising his work, Not that lavishing attention on Arthur’s cock was work, but there was something about the way Arthur talked to him like this that really did it for him. He pushed hard against his cock once more, before he dedicated himself completely to worshipping Arthur’s cock, pulling off to lick it from root to tip, kissing along it before he sank his lips over the head and swallowed him all the way down again, determined to suck Arthur’s orgasm from him. Arthur’s hand tightened in Merlin’s hair again as he tilted his head back.

“Oh gods, Mer-Merlin,” he rasped. “You are so good at this. I—I should have you like this in court. I’d like that. You sucking me off whilst—whilst I’m—I’m on the throne, instead of in my chair, so that they can all see how dedicated you are to me. How you would do anything for me. And how you wouldn’t care if they all saw you, if they were—were all w—watching—”

Arthur arched and came with a deep moan. Merlin swallowed down every drop as Arthur’s cock throbbed and pumped his salty release down Merlin’s throat.

He pulled off with a wet pop and wiped the back of his mouth. Arthur caressed his cheek gently.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said softly, helping Merlin to his feet.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning dawned full of rare winter sunshine, which took the chill off the air and gave everyone a spring in their step. The king and his manservant shared a quick tumble in the sheets before they set off on their respective days, Merlin taking advantage of the warmer weather to forage for herbs in the woods and Arthur heading off to do various kingly duties. Merlin smiled and waved happily as he strode out of the castle gates. It had been some time since he had gone out like this, the snow having been too thick and heavy to even think about it. It was still cold as he drew his cloak around himself, but the wind had lost it’s bitter edge and in a few places, the snow had started to melt. 

Merlin took full advantage of his knowledge of the woods to gather some feverfew and tansy. He dug for garlic and harvested some willowbark—an essential ingredient for so many of their winter pain remedies—from the trees, and generally enjoyed the exercise of being able to walk paths that weren’t lined by walls and breathe the fresh, crisp air. He walked as far as he dared before turning back, worried that he might get caught in a snow storm or get too cold and make himself sick. When he finally took himself back to the castle, he felt content and refreshed. As he walked through the town, it was remarkably quiet, Merlin had expected many people to be out and about carrying out their business because of the unexpectedly good weather. He worried that perhaps he had missed something. Was Camelot under attack in some way? He picked up his pace and made his way through the gatehouse and into the castle courtyard where he found a large gathering of townsfolk and Arthur up on the balcony as though he were about to give an address.

He frowned with confusion as he looked up at his king. Arthur didn’t have a speech to give today. Merlin would know if he had; he always knew when Arthur was going to address his people. In fact, Merlin wrote almost all of Arthur's speeches, save for the most important ones, and even then, Arthur sometimes asked for his advice in his final version. Is this what Arthur had been working on for the past week or so? Merlin had noticed him being a little standoffish and secretive, but he hadn’t felt like he was in any place to question Arthur and confront him over it. After all, he had no leg to stand on at all when it came to keeping secrets from Arthur. He wasn’t sure he ever would after all the things that he had kept from him, things that by all rights Merlin should have told Arthur long ago. Merlin worried, too, that it had become too much of a habit for him. He had promised Arthur that he would be truthful about everything from now on, but was that a vow that he could truly keep? He was used to analysing things to decide what he could and couldn’t tell his king, and even now he felt like his first instinct on hearing something new or discovering a secret would be to wonder whether that was something he could tell Arthur or if he ought to keep it to himself.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Camelot!” came Arthur’s voice, booming over the courtyard and pulling Merlin from his thoughts. “I want to thank you for coming today. I have an announcement to make of great importance to Camelot, and it may be something that will shock you, but I want to reassure you that it is something that I have been thinking about for some time. I have discussed it with the court and my advisers, hearing every argument for and against, so you will understand that this is not something that has been decided on a whim or a fancy. But it is something that I think will benefit Camelot immensely.

As you all know, the use of magic has been strictly forbidden in Camelot for almost thirty years now, and every year, my father celebrated the Great Purge. However, I am not my father. Instead, I would like to propose a change to our laws that will lead to great things for this kingdom. For too long we have denied ourselves and our people their rights to freedom. We have persecuted people, for no reason other than the fact that they have an ability that might be different than our own. But today, I say, no more! No more persecution. No more executions. No more oppression.

“That is why, with immediate effect, I am renouncing the ban on magic!”

A gasp went up from the crowd, and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. Around him, there was an immediate babble of voices as everyone started to talk at once. Merlin tried to close his ears to all the noise that was bombarding him, not wanting to hear what the townsfolk _really_ thought about those with magic. He could feel his heartbeat thumping in his head and his neck prickled. What would they think if they all knew that standing right in the middle of them all was a sorcerer? A sorcerer who had just been granted his freedom by the king? But he hadn’t wanted it like this. Arthur should have asked him. He had said that he wasn’t going to do this for Merlin, but he had kept it from him deliberately. Merlin found himself looking up at the balcony and their eyes met. Arthur smiled the smallest of proud smiles as Merlin stared at him with despair. His every instinct was screaming at him to run, his legs twitching as he tried to resist.

Up on the balcony, Arthur held up his hand in a plea for silence. Gradually, the people around Merlin quietened, and still he had to resist the urge to push his way out of the crowd. He wanted to leave; he didn’t want to stay and hear what Arthur was going to say next. The air around him was becoming thick and it was harder and harder for him to draw breath.

 _Please, please don’t name me as Court Sorcerer_ , he begged to Arthur with his eyes. 

“Silence, please,” called Arthur. “I know my decision is surprising to some. Shocking, even. But it is final and my word is law. From now on, magic will be welcomed in Camelot. I know that many of you believe magic is evil and dangerous, but that is because we have tried to shut it out and banish it from our lives. All we did is harm the good people amongst us. We sent them away, we killed them, we made them hide, when they could have been sharing their talents. When they could have been helping us, healing us, protecting us. Some of these people have continued to use their gifts secretly in this way, without asking for any reward or any recognition, because it was necessary and because it was the right thing to do. I would not be here as your king if it were not for sorcery. I have had my life saved on countless occasions by good people. By good sorcerers! And whilst people like the Lady Morgana are still out there, threatening our kingdom, I can no longer turn a blind eye to those with magic who seek to help us! That is why Camelot will be welcoming those with magic to offer up their services to help protect us.

“Now I know that it will be difficult for those of you with magic to trust me, But I hope that you will take me at my word that anyone who comes forward with magic will receive a full pardon and an apology from Camelot for our treatment of your kind. Anyone who wishes to come forward in confidence can do so by coming to Gaius, who is going to be my advisor on magic, as well as the court physician, and he will not reveal your abilities until you are ready to do so yourself. I know that this will be a difficult adjustment for many, but I hope with time that you will come to see how this change will benefit us all and make us a fair and just kingdom for us all. Thank you!”

With that, Arthur gave the crowd a final wave before he headed inside the castle. 

The effect was instantaneous as the courtyard burst into life. Merlin felt a wave of pure panic rush through him as his magic buzzed beneath his skin. He needed to get out of this crowd and escape to somewhere quiet and safe. He looked around him, frantically trying to decide the best escape route. The gatehouse was pointless, as the people of the lower town had started to head back out of the gates, everyone talking loudly and animatedly, giving their opinion on the king’s announcement. Merlin pushed against the flow of people to one of the side doors of the castle, finally feeling like he could actually breathe as he slid into the shadows and pressed himself against a stone column. The cold stone beneath his fingertips was a stark contrast to the rest of him that felt too hot, as though he was burning up. Could someone get ill within a matter of minutes? Logically, he knew that he couldn’t. But he felt feverish, and his stomach churned as he closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly through his nose. He knew that he was panicking, that his body and mind were overreacting to a perceived danger. But none of that helped much.

“God, I hope that some sorcerers really do come forward, the bastards. Then we can get rid of them like the vermin they are!” said an angry man’s voice, passing nearby.

“It’s okay, Elsie. I don’t know why King Arthur said that, but I’m sure that his council will talk to him and make him see sense. He just can’t let those vile monsters rampage through Camelot again, killing whichever people they please, just like that. He can’t. He just can’t!” said a woman.

Merlin bowed his head. So this is what people really felt about magic users? Arthur had made a grave mistake. People’s lives were going to be put in danger if they came forward. Why hadn’t Arthur consulted with him? Why hadn’t he asked for his advice? People weren’t ready. Merlin wasn’t sure that they would ever be ready. His stomach lurched again and he retched. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and fell back against the stone column once more. He couldn’t stay here and listen to more people declare him a monster and wish him death. He dashed over to the door and let himself inside, tearing through the corridors with no eyes or ears for anyone else, focused solely on getting to the peace and safety of his own room.

Finally, he made it to the staircase leading to the physician’s tower and home and sanctuary.

He burst into the main room of Gaius chambers and a quick glance around the room confirmed that Gaius was out. Thank goodness. The last thing Merlin wanted right now was to hear Gaius talk about how wonderful this all was and point out to him that this was all that Merlin had ever wanted. And it was. But not like this. Not when the people weren't ready to accept magic. They had listened to Uther for too long and Arthur had not long been king. Why had he been so foolish and pushed so hard? There was no need to rush this. Arthur should have taken his time. Merlin couldn’t help but blame himself. If only he’d kept his magic secret from Arthur still. If only he hadn’t been so buoyed by the excitement and delight of Arthur's coronation. He shouldn’t have been so selfish. He should have carried his burden, his secret for longer, even if it would have meant losing Arthur after it all came out.

Merlin wound his way through the tables and benches of the infirmary and took the two steps up towards his room. He pushed open his door with a sigh of relief, only to feel his stomach drop as his eyes alighted on Arthur, sitting waiting for him on his bed.

“Merlin!” he called out, delightedly. He got up, stepping forward to take Merlin’s hand in his. “I thought that this was probably the best place for us to be alone.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Merlin’s hand and Merlin’s blood ran cold. He was so proud of himself. “So, what did you think?”

“Arthur… I—” Merlin shook his head, not knowing quite how to respond. It wasn’t _really_ Arthur’s fault. Even though it had been his decision, he wasn’t responsible for all those people who weren’t ready. Merlin knew that Arthur had done it because he was ready and because it was the right thing to do.

“This is hardly the kind of reaction I was expecting from you. I thought that you’d be ecstatic. You and all the people like you are free.”

Merlin shook his head. “It’s not as simple as that Arthur, and you know it. The people—their beliefs won’t change so easily. They’ve heard for years and years that magic is something to be hated and reviled… They’re not going to— I mean, you can’t ju—”

He was cut off mid-word by Arthur’s kiss.

When Arthur pulled away, he pressed his forehead against Merlin’s and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist. 

“Look, I know it’s not going to be a stroll in the woods for you, or for anyone with magic, or those of us without for that matter. But I had to do what is right, surely you understand that? What kind of king would I be if I stood by and allowed a law that I knew was wrong to stand? If I allowed that kind of persecution to continue in my name? I may as well not be king at all. And I wonder, you know, if I had done it sooner could I have saved Morgana? Can we still save her somehow? I know that she has done so many people of this kingdom wrong… but the thought still lingers that maybe, we might be able to make things right with her somehow.”

He sighed heavily. “Anyhow, the deed is done now, and there’s no going back. And I still want you by my side, as my Court Sorcerer—”

“Arthur…”

“I know, I know. But the offer still stands, and the position will remain vacant until you are ready to take it.”

Shaking his head, Merlin spoke, “But I don’t want it, Arthur. All I want is to be your servant, by your side. Until the day I die. Court Sorcerer… It’s just...”

“It is what you are destined for. Your magic and my sword. Magic and Camelot reunited once more. Now, come. We have a feast to attend!”

Arthur tugged him by the hand and Merlin stumbled down the stairs behind him. “Arthur— A feast—?”

“Of course. Renouncing the ban on magic is likely the biggest thing I shall ever do, and the celebrations will match it. Now, come and dress me,” he said, reeling Merlin in for another kiss. “I must look my most kingly.”

***

The feast had been going on for hours now, and Merlin was now deeply regretting turning down Arthur’s offer of a night off to enjoy himself. At the time, it had seemed more pertinent that he remain close to Arthur’s side, to watch over him and keep his eyes peeled for any magical dangers. But the truth of the matter was that, between attending to the top table with Arthur and all the highest ranking nobles and fetching food and drink from the kitchen and the wine cellar, he had been run ragged. 

That said, he was glad that he was still able to hide in plain sight, that he hadn’t been exposed yet in such a public manner as a magic user. Whilst all might be well tonight, with few people openly challenging Arthur’s proclamation (personally, Merlin thought that everyone was too excited at the chance to eat and drink to their hearts’ content with such an extravagant feast in the heart of winter), tomorrow would likely be a different story, with many of them ready to question or stab Arthur in the back.

He didn’t want anyone to look at him or treat him any differently. He wanted to just carry on being Merlin. As long as he could do that, he would be fine, but he could just imagine how things would change if people knew. He already felt like people were looking at him differently, as if just the fact that Arthur had changed the law had somehow revealed him. He wasn’t looking forward to what it would be like when word got out that he had magic.

With a sigh, Merlin grabbed an empty jug and prepared himself for yet another journey down to the cellars to keep the wine and goodwill flowing. As he passed a curtain, he found himself yanked into the alcove beyond. Merlin started to struggle as a hand was pressed over his mouth and an arm wrapped around his chest, holding him tightly.

“Shh! It’s me,” came Arthur’s voice.

Merlin relaxed, instantly relieved, and Arthur loosened his grip on him. 

“Ass,” Merlin bit out.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed, his breath warm and wine-sweet against Merlin’s cheek. “But I’d rather like to see yours. Strip.”

“Arthur!” Merlin hissed. “Are you quite mad? There’s a feast going on out there!”

Arthur shrugged and grinned, certainly well on the way to drunk and rather pleased with himself, as he slumped smug and loose against the wall. “So?” he asked. “Best be quiet then.” 

He pulled himself to his feet and drew Merlin close by his neckerchief, looking him in the eyes. “Are you really going to tell me that the thought of fucking right here, so close to all these people, doesn’t excite you? That the possibility of being discovered doesn’t turn you on?”

Merlin swallowed as his cock twitched and blood headed southwards, bringing him embarrassingly erect at the mere thought of Arthur’s suggestion. He licked his lips, ready to issue a denial.

“I—”

Arthur gripped his neckerchief tighter, twisting his hand in the material, making it hard for Merlin to breathe. “Don’t lie to me, Merlin. I know you.”

“No,” Merlin admitted with some reluctance, and Arthur grinned, triumphant.

With a determined glint in his eye, he pushed Merlin up against the wall and ravished him with a desperate and sloppy kiss. Within a few moments, Merlin was responding in kind, equally desperate. They hadn’t done anything since Arthur had changed the law, and Merlin would be lying if he hadn’t missed their usual morning routine, which more often than not involved a quickie before they got to work and then, often, a second covert meeting in the morning before the noon meal, or if not shortly after. They spent most of the afternoon apart, before they finally got to have some time alone before bed, though it was not unheard of for Arthur to continue having meetings with various nobles or knights well into the evenings, too. Merlin could only imagine how much of Arthur’s time was going to be monopolised by others in the coming weeks, and it made him cling to him all the more desperately.

He hooked a leg around Arthur’s waist as Arthur pressed him against the wall, hoisting him up and off his feet, then wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck as they continued to kiss, their tongues entangled with first Arthur dominating the kiss and then Merlin. Arthur ripped off Merlin’s neckerchief with a growl and tugged at his belt, rutting fiercely against him. The friction of clothing between them was both too much and not enough, but Merlin dare not use magic to help them. Not here right here in the Great Hall, in the midst of such celebrations. It would be difficult enough explaining their current position if they were discovered, let alone being discovered in such a manner whilst using magic. He pulled away from Arthur’s kiss to lean back against the wall and remove his jacket and belt, and when he tugged at the knot of his breeches, it thankfully came undone with ease. As he looked up, he and Arthur bumped heads. Merlin laughed as he rubbed the sore spot, which made Arthur laugh too, and suddenly all of Merlin’s cares and worries about their surroundings fell away. He dived back into their kiss, his hands cradling Arthur’s face, thumbs gently caressing the soft, warm skin of his cheekbones and the stubble of the man he loved so much. 

Arthur used one hand to free Merlin’s cock before he started pulling at his own laces, and Merlin wrapped his fingers around his length, instantly feeling some relief. With little regard to his previous resolve, he released Arthur’s breeches with barely a thought. With a glance up at him, Arthur smiled and lowered him to the ground.

“Turn around,” he ordered and he yanked Merlin’s breeches down and let them drop to his ankles. Merlin moved to tug off his boots, but Arthur stopped him. “No, leave them on.”

Crowding him up against the wall once more, Arthur’s hands glided gently over Merlin’s hips before he pulled him close against his body so that he could rub his cock teasingly between Merlin’s arse cheeks.

“Bend over, hands against the wall,” he ordered. Merlin shivered as he complied, his cock twitching as it hung untouched between his legs. He felt Arthur pressing his cock tauntingly against his hole, pulling away only to return once more.

Merlin bit back a groan and prepared himself to be patient, waiting to prove himself in some manner. 

“Look at you, waiting so nicely, all ready for my cock. Look at how much your hole wants it, needs it…” Arthur pressed his thumb against Merlin’s hole, pushing until it popped past the muscle. “Yes, that’s it. Look how it just opens up and lets me in. So desperate for some attention. So hungry…” 

He pressed another digit inside and Merlin let his head drop between his shoulder blades with a low groan, his cock now rock hard and starting to drip. Arthur was right; he did love this, and it had been a while since they had played together this way. Last time, Arthur had brought him to a gibbering wreck as he fucked him with a candle, bringing Merlin close to the edge over and over before finally letting him come on his cock. 

Surely he wasn’t going to drag things out as long as that now, of all times, was he? Of course not, definitely not. Besides, they didn’t exactly have a candle to hand did they?

Merlin felt something cold, metalitic run down his back and over his arse. 

“You know,” said Arthur, leaning over him, pressing his cheek against Merlin’s face. “I’ve always liked this dagger. It’s one of my favourites. I’ve always thought that it was the perfect shape to fuck with. My father brought it to celebrate my twenty-first year, for coming of age and becoming his official heir. I’d say it would be rather poetic if I fucked a sorcerer with it, wouldn’t you?”

Arthur pulled away and withdrew his finger and thumb, instead lightly pressing at Merlin’s hole with the smooth, cool metal of the dagger’s hilt. 

Merlin knew exactly the dagger that Arthur was referring to; made of the finest gold and silver, both hilt and sheath were worn smooth with age and use, the once intricate carving now barely even visible. Merlin had cared for it carefully, gently, many times, knowing how much it meant to his king.

There was a trickle of something cold and wet between Merlin’s buttocks. 

“I want you to tell me how much you want it. How much you desire it. I want you to say it.”

“Arthur, sire… Please!”

“Please, what?” asked Arthur. Merlin could hear the smugness in his voice.

“Please, sire. Please give it to me. You’re right, you’re right! I-I— I need it. You’re s—so right.”

“Good,” Arthur replied. “How good you’ve been for me tonight, Merlin. All those people just the other side of that fabric, yet you’re begging to be fucked with a dagger. I _have_ trained you well.”

He rubbed a hand gently over Merlin’s arse, pressing a soft kiss there before he pushed in just a little with the dagger. Merlin’s hole instantly gave way, and Merlin grunted softly as it slid easily inside.

“Yes, yes. Look at that,” Arthur praised. “I barely touched you at all, but your eager, filthy hole is so desperately in need of something to fill it, it opened up like a cheap whore’s legs in the lower town. I’d say maybe you belong there, amongst them…” Arthur trailed a finger along Merlin’s jaw, “the prettiest whore in the whole of Camelot... But the truth is that I am too selfish to want to share you with another.”

Arthur slowly pushed the dagger in further, before pulling back; in and out, in and out as Merlin let out a small whine. He continued pumping the hilt inside Merlin in an excruciatingly slow pace. The hilt’s girth felt huge, but the length fell short of reaching that special spot inside him. It felt so good, and Merlin trusted Arthur to be careful not to rush or push things too far with their play. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out, letting his body relax as it adjusted to the strange feel and sensation of the hard, unyielding metal.

“That’s it,” said Arthur, speaking softly. “You’re doing so well.” He pushed Merlin’s tunic up his back and pressed gentle kisses down his spine. “Look how you’re taking it. Like you were made to do this. Going to be so perfect and ready for my cock. Do you want my cock, Merlin?”

Merlin groaned, “Yes, yes. Of course I do, you arse.”

“Oh, thank the gods!” exclaimed Arthur, so relieved that he didn’t even stop to berate Merlin for calling him an arse. 

He pulled out the dagger swiftly but carefully, and draped himself over Merlin’s back, lining himself up. Merlin groaned again, long and deep as Arthur’s cock entered him with one smooth thrust.

“So good,” murmured Arthur. “So, so good.”

On the other side of the curtain, the party continued, and voices and music drifted through the air as Arthur started to fuck into Merlin in earnest. Merlin pressed his forehead against the wall, biting back small cries and moans. Arthur pressed his hand to his mouth and hushed him.

“Don’t make a sound,” he ordered. “Unless of course, you _want_ people to hear me fucking you. _Oh,_ maybe you do. Maybe you’d enjoy it. Maybe I should order you to be as loud as you are when we’re out in the woods, so that every single person on the other side of that curtain knows _exactly_ what’s going on and exactly how much you’re enjoying being buggered by their king.”

Arthur slid his arm beneath them both and curled his fingers around Merlin’s cock, and Merlin careened over the edge at once, all of the heat and tension that had been building in his gut exploding and he came, barely even touched, all over the alcove wall. Arthur pumped his hand, milking every drop of Merlin’s orgasm from him before he picked up his own pace, thrusting in and out as he held up Merlin’s loose and pilant form. He groaned in Merlin’s ear as his rhythm stuttered, and then came hard, filling Merlin with his release as they both collapsed, sliding down together exhausted on the floor.

Arthur hummed his contentment as Merlin nuzzled into his arms and held him for several long minutes before pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 

“We should dress. People will begin to wonder where I am.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sunlight streamed in through the upper windows of the council chambers. They had been here for hours now, debating the merits of a new rise in taxes for grain, versus keeping them the same. Of course, it would have been dominated by Arthur’s decision to legalise magic, if Arthur hadn’t forbidden the subject from this particular meeting. Whilst he knew it was the biggest issue on everyone’s minds, there was still other business important to the smooth running of the kingdom that needed to be discussed. Their most recent, and hopefully, last battle against Morgana before winter set in, had caused a significant drain on Camelot’s wealth — not that anyone would say it out loud — so something needed to be done. There was rebuilding still to finish, just as there were lives to mend and a new army to finish recruiting. And all of those things cost a significant amount of gold. But how could they justify asking people for more of their funds when so many were barely done mourning their dead?

Arthur sat back and drummed his fingers on the table. He felt a tingle travel down his spine and looked up to see Merlin leaning against the wall on the far side of the hall, staring at him - gold fading from his eyes. Merlin was basically his consort these days. Though they had never formally acknowledged their relationship in court, it was well-known to most of those around them. And even though Merlin still held the status of servant, he was often granted the privileges of a consort by others. He knew that Merlin was still upset at him for his announcement, and especially the fact that Arthur had kept it from him. He understood why Merlin was upset, but it had been important that it be a decision that Arthur made without him. So that no one would be able to accuse Merlin of influencing his decision. He still trusted and needed him as much as he always did.

As a matter of fact, Arthur was still desperate to make Merlin his Court Sorcerer, but still he kept refusing Arthur’s offer. Arthur had stopped short of ordering Merlin to take the damned title, but only just. For now, Gaius sat next to him at the round table as his ‘official’ magical advisor, much to Arthur’s chagrin, and Leon sat the other side as his First Knight, in the absence of Arthur having a spouse or consort. Merlin, damn him, deserved to sit in both those seats. And yet he sat in none.

Arthur licked his lips as he stared at Merlin, standing there like a tease with that tantalizing little glimpse of neck that was criminally kept swathed in red or blue most of the time. Though, that might be for the best. Last week, Merlin had foregone a neckerchief altogether when they’d been running late for hearing questions, and it had become lost in the bedding after Arthur had used it to bind Merlin’s hands. Arthur hadn’t been able to concentrate at all.

Arthur shifted in his seat. A small, mysterious smile curved on Merlin’s sinful lips as Leon and Lord Degrevance argued over… something. He’d lost track of conversation around the table a long time ago; thinking about Merlin was by far the superior option. God those lips were more talented than any lips had any right to be. Arthur raised his eyebrows and tilted his head towards the doors of the chambers, and Merlin shot him a questioning look. Arthur nodded his head.

“Oh,” began Lord Degredance, clutching at his belly, “I don’t feel so well. If you will excuse me, my Lord…”

Arthur’s eyes darted across the table to him. “Certainly, Lord Degrendance. In fact, I do believe we have come as far as we can in our discussion at this point. Let us regroup, say, tomorrow morning, before the lunch hour? You are all dismissed.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as wooden chairs scraped against the stone floor and the knights and various Lords proceeded to gather their possessions and shuffle their papers; a quiet murmur of people beginning to talk filled the vast room. Eventually, however, the room grew quiet and the doors were slammed shut, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone at last.

“Well, that went well,” said Merlin, with mock-cheerfulness.

Arthur didn’t reply. He merely lounged in his chair and stared at Merlin, his eyes dark and intense. Merlin inhaled sharply and bit his lip.

“Come here, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur drawled, his voice low and authoritative. He held back a smile as he saw Merlin’s visceral response. He and Merlin had been together so long now, and Arthur prided himself on his ability to play Merlin like a well-tuned lute. In public, Merlin was openly defiant of Arthur, and they often would have disagreements — arguments, even — in front of the court. But Arthur knew what Merlin _really_ liked — nay, _needed_. He needed Arthur to ground him. To make him obey and remind him for all that he was a mighty and powerful sorcerer — apparently the most powerful to walk the earth according to Gaius, though Arthur had been a bit sceptical of this at first — he was still human, and he still answered to Arthur, his king.

Merlin came to him, crossing the hall in brisk steps until he was by Arthur’s side. He placed his hand on the back of Arthur’s chair.

“Yes, sire?” he asked lightly, with an air of innocence.

“I require your services,” Arthur told him. “On your knees.”

The dark-haired sorcerer beside him scrambled suddenly, almost the same flail of limbs that Arthur remembered from when the man had first arrived in Camelot, barely out of boyhood and making his first tentative steps into the big wide world. Time had eventually lent Merlin some form and grace, and it had hardened him, in a way. But at heart, he was still that same excited young man, and just as eager as ever to please Arthur.

Merlin sat back on his heels as he knelt between Arthur’s legs. 

“You know what to do,” Arthur told him nonchalantly as he reached for his quill and waited. 

Licking his lips, Merlin made short work of Arthur’s laces and slid his hand inside his breeches, cupping Arthur’s cock, which was already half-hard. Arthur could feel Merlin’s eyes flick up to look at him, searching for his approval. But Arthur ignored him and pulled a piece of parchment closer, pretending to examine the contents, though really, he was far from being able to focus on such trivial matters.

Merlin freed Arthur’s cock from its confines and licked a broad wet stripe along the underside from the root to the tip. Arthur suppressed a shudder of delight. Merlin needed to earn his praise, and he certainly hadn’t done enough yet to hear any encouragement from Arthur.

Next, his sorcerer slid his plump, soft lips over the head of Arthur’s cock, giving it a slow, gentle suck as though he was savouring it, making the moment last. Arthur shifted in his seat in an attempt to get Merlin to take more of him into his mouth. Merlin happily accepted and accommodated Arthur’s movements as he started to bob his head, slowly but surely taking more of Arthur’s length between his lips and bumping against the roof of his mouth. He worked Arthur with a slow determination, and Arthur sat back a little, his quill touching the paper, but an increasing pool of ink forming on the parchment in place of words. Merlin loved sucking Arthur’s cock. And Arthur loved having his cock sucked. It was a perfect combination, one that Arthur was happy to reciprocate on a regular basis.

Honestly, it was hard sometimes to focus on the running of the kingdom when Merlin was around. He often drove Arthur to distraction just by standing nearby. Arthur would itch to reach over and pull him closer, when he’d be able to ravish his lips and that gorgeous long neck that was just begging for him to mark. And mark it he did, on several memorable occasions, to warn an errant knight or noble that Merlin was taken. It was a habit he had taken to when Gwaine had joined the ranks. Arthur grimaced and clenched his fist at the surge of anger he still felt when he thought of the way Gwaine had shamelessly flirted with his manservant. How he still did on occasion even to this day.

Merlin pulled off of him, apparently sensing his displeasure. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” he asked with concern.

“Did I say you could stop?” Arthur growled. 

For a moment, it looked like Merlin was going to say something, but it seemed as though he thought better of it as he returned to giving Arthur head. Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to let his jealousy fade. Merlin was his, and no amount of flirting or cajoling from someone else was going to change that. Arthur trusted Merlin. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it when someone attempted to hit on him. 

He focused instead on Merlin’s amazing, talented mouth, which switched so easily between sassing him and giving him wisdom beyond his years, through to giving him such intense pleasure like this. Merlin really was a wonder. And that was without accounting for his magic, which, quite honestly, scared Arthur sometimes.

The power that his lover wielded was beyond comprehension. A lesser man, a less noble, less honourable man might let such power go to his head. But not Merlin. Merlin was as good and as steadfast as he had always been, and he tempered Arthur nicely when Arthur got carried away. Not that Arthur would ever admit as much to Merlin himself, but he kept Arthur balanced. Perhaps, having Arthur steadied Merlin too?

He let out a small groan of appreciation as Merlin took him deep, his throat fluttering around the head of his cock. Sometimes, Arthur would hold back any and all sounds. He would make Merlin work for them. But today he figured that Merlin had earned it. He slid a hand into his servant’s dark silky locks and cradled his head tenderly for a moment, before gently forcing it down further. He felt Merlin gag slightly, and released the pressure holding him down. Merlin sped up in an attempt to appease him, his fingers cupping and rolling Arthur’s balls. 

The doors to the council hall slammed open and Arthur shot to attention, his hand still on Merlin’s head. He held it there, keeping Merlin in place as Merlin stiffened and stilled beneath the table.

“My lord!” exclaimed a guard. “Lord Lucian has arrived, and he requests to see you immediately. He says he brings important news.”

There was a commotion behind the guard as a man pushed him aside. “For goodness sake, boy. Let me in!” he said.

Arthur found himself momentarily paralysed with fear. What had been a bit of fun for him and Merlin had suddenly taken a turn for the strange as their little bubble of privacy had been burst. There was very little he could do other than play it off as if nothing were the matter. He jumped a little as Merlin’s throat tightened around his cock.

“Ah, King Arthur!” said Lord Lucian loudly. “I bring you grave news!”

“So grave that apparently you felt the right to barge into my castle with no respect for myself or decorum,” Arthur drawled, now more irritated than mortified at the situation he and Merlin found themself in.

“Forgive me, my lord, but the news I bear is extremely important.”

Arthur barely kept from rolling his eyes. Instead, he lay his quill down and drummed his finger on the table to express his displeasure. He ran the fingers of his other hand through Merlin’s hair and in a moment of pure recklessness, he encouraged Merlin to move his head up and down to continue the blowjob that had been so rudely interrupted. 

“For such urgent n-news,” Arthur said, “you sure do seem to be taking your t-time to impart it. Proceed.”

The belligerent lord spluttered for a moment before him. Then he drew himself up straight and tilted his chin haughtily. Arthur grit his teeth. If it weren’t for the fact that Merlin was doing such a marvellous job of sucking his cock right now, he would have stood up and ordered the lord to leave for his show of insolence. As it was, he was left with no choice but to listen.

Though, even listening was rather difficult at this exact moment. He risked a glance downwards to see his glistening cock moving in and out of Merlin’s eager mouth, and a fierce surge of lust flooded through him as visions of throwing Merlin down on the table to fuck him as he listened to Lord Lucian flooded his mind.

“—they plan to head for Camelot within a matter of days!”

Arthur’s head snapped up, and he pierced the man with a sharp look. “What did you say?” he asked, knowing that in his lust-filled fantasy he had missed some crucial pieces of information. 

“I said, my lord, that I come with news from the border of Lot’s kingdom. A Saxon army has been amassing there, and they plan to head for Camelot within a matter of days.”

He felt Merlin stop mid-way through sucking his cock as he also heard and registered the words. If true, it was worrying news indeed. Feeling reckless and horny, however, Arthur forced Merlin’s head down hard on his cock and he felt Merlin struggle for a moment until he released him.

“Is that so?” he asked, as casually as he could while fucking Merlin’s mouth. “In that case, w-we will—uh—we will send a s-scout to Lot’s Kingdom’s borders to a—ah—assess the s—situation. Are you—are you certain?” 

Arthur could feel his orgasm starting to rise, his thighs clenching as his cock twitched. Sweat beaded down his spine as he gripped the arm of his chair to try and ground himself. Any moment now, he was sure to explode with that sweet release. 

“We received word of it this morning, my lord, and I knew that I should come immediately to let you know in person.”

Lord Lucian wasn’t the only one who needed to come immediately. Arthur was so damn close his vision was starting to blur, and he was barely able to focus on the lord’s words.

“C-Camelot th-thanks you, Lord Lucian. G-guards, make sure Lor—! Lord Lucian is given a good meal and— and chambers s—so that he ca—can rest for th—the night.” 

Lord Lucian glared at him. “Am I not to attend dinner with you, my lord? After all, I _did_ come bearing such vital news to Camelot. I also wish to talk with you about some disturbing rumours we have been hearing about you renouncing your father’s laws on magic. I am sure they are not true, but since they had spread as far as my lands, I felt duty-bound to travel here myself to inform you.”

“I— I—” Arthur’s mind went blank. He was ill-equipped for diplomatic negotiations whilst getting a blowjob. “N—no, not tonight. In the morning. An audience. If you wish it! And we—we can—can… We can t-talk further! ”

“Forgive me for asking, sire, but are you quite well? You look a little bit...”

Arthur waved a hand at him. “Yes, yes. Qu—quite well, L-Lord Lucian! I’ll— I’ll see you in the morning!” He continued waving his hand towards the door and nodded to the guards, who were looking on rather red-faced, and Arthur wondered if they knew what was going on. He grinned rather manically at Lord Lucian until finally he was gone and the doors to the hall slammed shut. 

“Oh, thank the GODS!” Arthur groaned. He hauled Merlin off of him and gripped the base of his cock firmly. “Strip,” he told Merlin.

Merlin hurried to get changed. He flung his jacket and belt haphazardly on the floor, and his shirt soon followed. Next, he tugged off his boots and socks, before dropping his trousers to reveal his long, hard cock, bobbing between his legs.

“On the table, quick!” Arthur commanded. 

And no sooner was Merlin on the table than Arthur was right there, pushing him onto his back and pulling out a vial of oil he always kept to hand. He drizzled some haphazardly over Merlin’s cock and down between his arse before shoving two fingers roughly inside Merlin’s hole. Merlin cried out and arched on the table, and Arthur pumped them in and out before withdrawing them and lining up his cock.

“Ready?” he asked, as a warning, before he pushed all the way in with one thrust. Merlin’s body was used to this now and it opened up to him willingly.

Merlin groaned deeply, his head falling back with a thud.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” muttered Arthur with satisfaction, and he started to piston his hips, his cock driving in and out of Merlin’s tight hole. “You like taking my cock like a good whore.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Merlin. Arthur growled and slapped his arse sharply. “I—I mean, yes, sire!”

“Better,” praised Arthur. “You know you are always so ready and willing for me Merlin, I was very proud of you today. You did well, so this is your reward.”

“Th—thank you, sire!” Merlin choked out as Arthur’s thrusts pushed him along the table, his face contorting with a look of pleasure that Arthur knew well as he fought to hold back from coming. 

“Since I am a kind and generous master, and your cock-sucking skills were so excellent—I can’t believe you almost made me come with Lord Lucian _right there_ —you may touch yourself.” Merlin hurried to wrap his fingers around his slick cock and pumped his fist with vigor. Arthur knew just the thing to send his manservant careening over the edge. “What a—a shameless, shameless hussy you are. So desperate for my cock you’ll do anything for it, including sucking it whilst I’m receiving a foreign lord! I should have let him see you, shouldn’t I? Maybe next time I want my cock sucked it will be when I am training the knights. I will call you over and make you get on your knees before them all and have you blow me, right there on the training field whilst they do their drills.”

Merlin whimpered at his words, continuing to strip his cock, and the air grew static around them before Merlin came with a cry of “Arthur!” and a wave of magic that set every candle in the room ablaze.

Arthur groaned as Merlin’s hole fluttered around him, the pulse of magic very nearly wringing his orgasm from him. He kept thrusting into Merlin, who lay there tired and pliant. It crossed his mind to command Merlin to make him cum, but he didn’t really want to push his luck. Merlin might be readily submissive in the heat of the moment, but outside of their bedroom activities, Merlin did not take well to being bossed around. Arthur had learned over time what he could and could not get away with.

It did not take him long, however, since he had already held off his own release more than once, determined to give Merlin a good fucking. Within a few minutes, when Arthur was finally about to peak and ready to explode from it all, he pulled out and steadied himself with a hand on Merlin’s hip as the other pumped his cock. His vision whitened, and his release splattered hot and wet over Merlin’s belly and chest.

He leant forward and pressed a lazy kiss to Merlin’s mouth. “Fuck, we have to try that again.”

***

Arthur’s words to Merlin from the council chambers kept replaying in Arthur’s mind all through the next few days. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they should try their rather public display of sex again. It was rapidly becoming the only thing he could think about, and it had so far lead to accosting Merlin in the halls for sex in an empty chamber set aside for visitors, a quick wank together out in the woods when he had gone out with Merlin under the pretense of gathering herbs, and a blowjob (this time with Arthur giving rather than receiving) out in the stables. And Arthur was already plotting another way to get his hands on Merlin as he sat through another boring hearing of concerns from Camelot’s townspeople. 

He really couldn’t give a toss if John the fishmonger had taken Hetty the seamstress’s place at the market. It wasn’t something that was key to the well-being of the town, and he resented his hall being the battleground of such petty squabbles. Wasn’t there someone else who could take these kinds of hearings? Arthur supposed if he had a wife, he could possibly leave it to her. But he didn’t. Instead, he had a Merlin. A Merlin who looked deceptively unassuming and soft, but was actually rather strong and contained an untold power that no man in his right mind should have at his fingertips. Arthur thought that actually, Merlin would have been a rather good choice to replace him in hearing such matters. He was a good judge of character and believed in justice. But it would have rather defeated the point for Merlin to be hearing questions, when it was precisely him that Arthur wanted to be with, doing whatever it took for moans and cries to fall from that pink, soft, welcoming mouth. 

“Enough!” he barked out, his sudden interruption stunning both parties into silence. “John, you shall have the space one week, and Hetty shall have it the other. If that doesn’t suit, then I suggest that you both grow up and learn how to share the space and sell your wares next to each other. Or better still, learn to barter with others for use of their spot. This is NOT a matter that should be brought before the king of Camelot, and any other such petty quarrels brought before me shall be similarly scorned. Do I make myself understood?”

“But, Your Majesty—” began John.

 _“Do I make myself understood?”_ repeated Arthur, his voice low and dark.

The man swallowed nervously. “Yes, sire,” he squeaked out.

“Good. Then this session is dismissed,” Arthur declared, much to the disappointment of the other townspeople who had been waiting to have their questions be heard by him.

The people in the hall started to flood out of the room, and Arthur beckoned Merlin over to him so that they could exit together along with everyone else. Merlin had smiled at him and started to tell Arthur all about the latest experiment, as he called them, in his tower. The experiments always rather alarmed Arthur; he was worried Merlin might do something to seriously injure or even kill himself, so he was always rather cautious when Merlin talked about them. As he listened to Merlin excitedly telling him about his experiment de jour, he suddenly grabbed Merlin by the lapel of his jacket and dashed into the broom closet near the armoury.

“Arthur!” exclaimed Merlin But his protest soon died on his lips as Arthur bent forward and kissed him deeply. 

Merlin grinned and rested his forehead against Arthur’s. “You know, we’re supposed to be at the knights’ training right now,” he reminded Arthur.

“Fuck the knights’ training,” said Arthur. 

“Those are strong words from their supposed king. And their First Knight.” Merlin slid his arms around Arthur’s waist and pulled him close for a kiss.

“I’m not First Knight anymore,” murmured Arthur as he chased Merlin’s kiss. “Promoted Leon, remember?”

Arthur may have been a knight, but he certainly had deft fingers, and said fingers made quick work of Merlin’s belt before he started to divest him of his jacket.

“And that allows you to just accost the Court Sorcerer of Camelot and drag him into a broom closet, does it?” 

Pulling away from Merlin, Arthur started tugging his hauberk over his head, before Merlin tutted and stepped in to help him with it. 

“Court Sorcerer? Does that mean you’re accepting my offer?” Arthur asked, eagerly.

“I am, in all but name, is what I mean,” replied Merlin, helping Arthur with his sword belt. “The people aren’t ready yet for an official Court Sorcerer. And neither am I. People talk about me and stare at me enough already because of your habit of dragging me into broom cupboards at random, without them realising what I can do. They’d get scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” retorted Arthur.

“I know,” said Merlin, looking at him with a grateful smile. “I know you’re not. I don’t think you’re afraid of anything.”

Arthur laughed. “Oh, I’m afraid of plenty of things, Merlin.” He tilted Merlin’s chin and examined his lover's face, letting his eyes take in the deep blue eyes, long dark lashes and sharp cheekbones that he adored. 

Merlin’s eyes widened a little, as though he knew Arthur’s thoughts, and his very real fear that one day he might lose this, the love they had between them. That it might be torn from them by some unseen force, or that someone might come and sweep Merlin off his feet, that Merlin might one day come to his senses and see Arthur for who he really was. 

“Arthur,” he breathed. “Make me yours.”

With a sharp inhale of breath, Arthur examined Merlin a moment more, the feelings hanging between them, unsaid, but not unfelt.

Then Merlin surged forward, taking matters into his own hands, roughly pulling him into a kiss before fisting his hand through Arthur’s hair and giving it a sharp tug. Arthur gasped and bit Merlin’s lip, startled out of his moody reverie, and gave back as good as he got as he roughly tugged Merlin’s jacket the rest of the way off and almost tore his stupid neckerchief from his stupid neck. He positively _did_ rip Merlin’s shirt in his hurry to divest him of it. There was a mad scramble in general to get as much clothing off as quickly as possible, with a few bumps and yelps along the way from Merlin, who always did manage to injure himself in some way on these occasions. 

“Do we have any—” asked Arthur through a flurry of eager kisses.

“Oil?” finished Merlin. “‘Course I do.” 

As Merlin bent to get it from his trousers, Arthur took his arse in his hands and ran his hands over the pale, creamy buttocks. For all that he himself had a nice round arse, there was something so nice and pert about Merlin’s, completely separate from the way it opened up and accomodated him. It was just compact and perfect.

Merlin chuckled as he looked up at him, still bent over. He gave his arse a cheeky wiggle. “Enjoying the view, are you?”

“Very much,” purred Arthur. As Merlin straightened up, he pushed him over against the wall of the small cupboard and knelt on top of their discarded clothes before he grasped Merlin’s arse again. “Forget about the oil,” he said. “I have a better idea.”

Merlin’s back visibly tensed, but he asked cautiously, “Yeah?”

Smiling, Arthur parted his cheeks and decisively licked a stripe across Merlin’s hole. Merlin shivered in response, but made no objections, so Arthur licked again, before swirling his tongue slowly around Merlin’s rim. They’d never done anything like this before. Arthur had never really dared, but he’d heard whispered talk of it, and he had always wanted to try it with Merlin, to see if he could bring him to a blubbering mess as he often did with his fingers and dirty talk alone.

Merlin inhaled sharply, but otherwise stayed perfectly still. This annoyed Arthur a bit; though he often instructed Merlin to stay still, secretly he wanted to drive Merlin to such distraction that he would be destined to fail. He especially liked when he drove Merlin into such a state that he lost control of his magic. Arthur wore such accomplishments with pride. He would just have to make sure that Merlin failed today, and then they could both have the fun of his punishment later.

He dove in once more, circling again a few times, tasting Merlin before he grew braver and pushed his tongue gently into Merlin’s pucker. Merlin made a small choking sound, pressing a fist to his mouth. Arthur smiled briefly before pushing in again, deeper this time, and Merlin made a whimper. Unsure exactly how to go about this new activity–after all, Arthur had only really heard _whisperings_ and never a detailed description–he began to fuck his tongue slowly in and out of Merlin’s hole, the same way he would have done if he was fucking him with his cock. 

Merlin started to become more vocal, reacting to every thrust of Arthur’s tongue with a backwards thrust of his own. He clenched around him and moaned as he pressed his head against his arm. Arthur changed tactics slightly, sucking lightly at Merlin’s hole, and Merlin grew wild, whining his pleasure and crying out for more. Arthur’s cock grew harder with every movement, every reaction he managed to elicit. He stabbed his tongue deep inside Merlin’s loosened hole and Merlin’s body jerked in response.

Arthur sat back on his heels, admiring his work. Merlin was wrecked in a way Arthur hadn’t seen in ages. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Merlin’s hole glistening and clenching as though desperate for something to fill it. He ran a teasing finger around the muscle.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice a little husky. “You should see how hungry your hole is for me…” He pushed two fingers inside, eliciting another deep groan from Merlin. “Going to fill it up, fuck you full of my come. I’m going to come and come until you’re so full it leaks out of you. So that everyone will see how much you love taking my cock.”

“Yes, oh yes, Arthur— I—”

Merlin’s excitations were halted in their tracks as Arthur stood up, pulled out his fingers and pushed in suddenly with his cock. Crying out, Merlin bucked beneath him, and Arthur pulled out and thrust back in again. Given the next thrust was much smoother, Arthur knew Merlin’s magic must have slicked the way. Emboldened by the knowledge that he wouldn’t hurt his lover, Arthur set a fast pace as he chased his own orgasm. 

He pulled Merlin flush against him, enjoying the way Merlin’s abs clenched and released as they moved together.

“Arthur!” Merlin whined, and Arthur smiled against his cheek before biting at his ear.

“What, my sweet?” Arthur asked, short of breath.

“You know what!” replied Merlin impatiently as he continued to meet Arthur’s thrusts with his own. 

“Nuh uh,” sing-songed Arthur, sliding his hand down into Merlin’s nest of dark curls. He stopped short of where Merlin really wanted him, waiting. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Merlin turned his head to glare at him. “I hate you,” he told Arthur. 

Arthur pressed them up against the wall of the cupboard and stilled, his cock still inside his obstinate sorcerer. 

“Go ahead,” Arthur told him. “I can wait like this all day. Mmm... now, there's a thought...”

They stood there, with nothing but the sound of their breathing filling the space as they fought to regain their breath, and Arthur could feel the rapid beating of Merlin’s heart, pressed as close as they were. Merlin remained stubbornly silent. It reminded Arthur of how he had had to break Merlin when they’d first started this, and how, on occasion, Merlin still needed to relearn how much he enjoyed handing all control over to Arthur. No time like the present to remind him.

“I guess you don’t really want this then,” said Arthur, preparing rather reluctantly to pull out his cock and order Merlin to dress and leave.

His traitorous cock gave a throb, and Merlin’s breath hitched.

Finally, there was a quiet, “Arthur, please...”

A feeling of pride filled Arthur’s heart. “Please what?” he asked. “Surely you remember how to ask your master properly. How you need to tell me what you want and why you deserve it?” 

“Please, sire. Touch me!” Merlin gasped out. 

Arthur grinned. He kept Merlin pinned in place and rubbed his own cheek against his sorcerer’s, reveling in the scrape of stubble Merlin often managed to accumulate by this time of day. “Very good, _Mer_ lin,” he crooned. “And now the next bit. I want to hear why you think you deserve it.”

He waited patiently, hoping that Merlin would at least give him something to work with. If they didn’t start again soon, Arthur felt as though he was going to explode, and that would be the end of all their fun.

“Be—because I—I’ve been good. B—because I need it. Arthur… please!”

He slapped Merlin’s arse hard, making him yelp. Trust Merlin to say he needed it. That much was obvious to anyone who had a pair of eyes. 

“Needing it does not mean you are deserving of it,” Arthur scolded. “However…” He ran a soothing hand over where he had just hit, “you are rather good when you learn to keep your mouth shut, and I think my hand and cock do that quite nicely. Perhaps you do deserve it.”

Arthur slowly started to pull out. He fisted a hand firmly in Merlin’s hair, holding it tight enough to smart, but not enough to truly hurt him, and kept him in place by gripping Merlin’s hip with the other hand.

He held back and kept still, not moving as a way of teasing Merlin. If nothing else, Arthur lived to tease Merlin, to make him indignant or outraged, and Merlin was the very same. Merlin struggled to move, to push back into Arthur’s cock, but Arthur held him still. 

Making a noise of pure exasperation, Merlin moved his arm to go to wrap his own hand around his cock. Arthur growled and tugged his head sharply, pulling his head back as he shoved in. He batted Merlin’s hand away and bit his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a tell-tale bruise. Merlin cried out and started to move with Arthur, working himself back onto his cock. 

Arthur liked to mark Merlin. He liked to show everyone that Merlin was his. He had always been possessive as a child, and he was no different now that he was king. There were times when Merlin and his knights had had to physically restrain him when someone thought they could get away with propositioning his manservant. To this day, Gwaine could always manage to get his hackles up with his pointless flirting. He knew it was futile, but that didn’t make Arthur any less irate.

“Whose are you?” he asked impulsively, wanting to hear Merlin say it.

“Yours!” Merlin gasped, before groaning as Arthur thrust into him once more. “Always yours, Arthur. My lord. My king!”

“Good,” said Arthur, his pride and temper soothed. “Don’t you ever forget it. You are mine, remember.” He pumped his hand with fast, jerking movements along Merlin’s cock, and Merlin came, his release splattering hot and wet over Arthur’s hand and on the cupboard wall. Arthur grunted as a spark of what he now knew was magic traveled through him and down his spine. Supporting Merlin, who had gone limp and relaxed in his arms, Arthur continued to push into him, just needing that _little bit more_ to push him over the edge. He pressed Merlin back against the cupboard wall so he could thrust deeper, faster without also holding up his lazy, post-coital, good for nothing, _gorgeous_ , annoying, yet perfect manservant. Who could get him harder than even his teenage self ever thought possible with a single look. Merlin, who always, always took his cock so— 

His orgasm crashed over him and Arthur came with a silent gasp, pumping his release deep inside his manservant in a way that would have him grinning smugly the whole day. He leant heavily against him until Merlin sleepily protested and tried to push him off.

“Mmm,” Arthur murmured into his ear. “Why didn’t we do this in my bed, so that we could blow off the rest of the day?”

He could feel Merlin snickering at his choice of words. “We could,” he said. “I can’t say I’d object to blowing you all day. And we’re not doing that because, need I remind you, you had to drag me into your cave—or cupboard, in this case—and have your wicked way with me like some kind of animal.”

Arthur smiled against Merlin’s cheek, far too satisfied to be provoked right now. “That could be arranged, you know. And quit complaining, I know how much you love it.”

“I don’t love the way you’re crushing me,” Merlin groused, trying to shove Arthur off of him again. 

Arthur moved away more readily this time, and he grimaced as his spent cock slid out of his manservant’s body. He felt sorry for whoever it was that was going to have to clean up this mess. With a heavy sigh, he pulled up his breeches, the everyday worries of being king starting to filter back into his mind. Beside him, Merlin was hopping on one leg as he began to re-dress, and once he’d pulled his tunic over his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to Arthur’s lips and then one to the furrow in his brow.

“You shouldn’t worry so much. It will give you wrinkles,” he said, his face dimpling as he smiled.

“But—” began Arthur. Merlin admonished him with a look. “There’s—”

“Shh!” said Merlin. “No worrying, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

“But you don’t—” Merlin cut him off with another kiss. This time it was a wet, deep, searching kiss that made Arthur’s toes curl, and he suddenly had trouble remembering what all those thoughts were that had been troubling him just moments before. Merlin slid his hand along his jaw and cupped the nape of his neck, and his other strong, firm hand rested comfortably on Arthur’s hip. Merlin’s tongue, Arthur reflected—not for the first time—was as talented with kissing as it was with sassing, having been well-practiced in both.


	8. Chapter 8

Camelot was still reeling, and it had been a tough week. Ever since Arthur had made his announcement, there had been unrest amongst the populace. At first, a few people had actually come forward as magic users. Most of them were hedge witches with very little power, but they had still been brave enough to reveal themselves. It had soon turned rotten though, as fear was still rife, and those who had admitted being sorcerers had been attacked and in some cases captured. The knights had been ordered to patrol the streets to protect any other unfortunate souls who got outed or had revealed themselves, only to be persecuted once more. Most of the perpetrators of the violence had been arrested and were awaiting a trial in the dungeons, but there was still a lot of hatred and dislike amongst the townspeople, and now all the sorcerers amongst them, Merlin included, were fearful of what might happen if they came forward or were inadvertently discovered. Tensions were at an all time high.

For his part, Merlin made an extra effort to avoid all use of magic in the castle, with two exceptions; the first being the king’s chambers—Arthur refused to let him deny himself and demanded, nay, ordered that he continue to use magic as he wished in their room, especially when it came to their bedroom activities. The second place was his very own tower, which Arthur had recently gifted him. It had been a big surprise to Merlin, and at first he had been reluctant to accept such a huge overture from Arthur. But eventually, with much cajoling (and a bit of cheating where Arthur procured some promises during sex), Merlin had accepted the gift. The fact that he had done so was still very much a secret, however, with only a few people being in the know.

Merlin was still in the process of moving things in and setting up a study of sorts there, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited about it. It was all very well for Arthur to have granted magic users their freedom, but there was not much advantage to it if Camelot was still an unsafe place for magic. Arthur had said he wanted Merlin to have the tower so that he would have his own space to experiment in, another place where he could be alone and able to openly use his magic without fear of discovery. 

Merlin wasn’t stupid though; he knew that Arthur had granted this space with the provisio that, eventually, when the time was right, he would accept Arthur’s offer and become Court Sorcerer. After Sigan, Merlin knew the history of this castle, and his new rooms were in the old sorcerer’s tower in the south turret. The tower had been boarded up and banned from use ever since the start of the Great Purge, hence, why it was still mostly a secret that Merlin had access to it. 

But the backlash against magic users wasn’t the only thing that they were both worrying about. There were still continued rumours of Morgana and her army on the horizon. Arthur had sent out a scout to see if Lord Lucan’s reports had been accurate. If they were, Camelot needed to shake off its current problems and band together, ready to rally themselves for yet another fight against Morgana. And they would need all the help that they could get. Merlin was not looking forward to it, though he knew the battle was likely inevitable. He was sure that Arthur was holding on to a secret hope that Morgana might hear about his new ruling and change her mind about attacking the kingdom. In Merlin’s opinion, Morgana was too far gone, too twisted and warped in her mind and ways of thinking to be reasoned with, but he hadn’t had the heart to point that out to Arthur.

Arthur had told Merlin once about a madness that had afflicted his grandfather, and how he had feared that Uther had been suffering from the same in his final days. It had been a brief conversation, and Arthur had been shirtless for it, so Merlin hadn’t _quite_ given it his full attention, but ever since he had recalled it, Merlin had been wondering if perhaps Morgana herself was similarly afflicted. It was worrisome, and as a physician, Merlin wondered if there was anything that could be done for it. He’d approached Gaius on the subject, but it was not something that the physician was well-versed on, since his studies revolved around the body and not the mind. Nevertheless, he had written to a few friends he could count on to be discreet. They both knew that it would not look good to have Camelot’s court physician enquiring willy-nilly about madness in family lines. 

Still pondering their predicament with Morgana, Merlin idly flicked through a spellbook at his new desk in his tower. Arthur had given him the morning off whilst he held meetings with various lords to address their concerns about magic; Merlin had badly wanted to stay, but Arthur had insisted that he go. Most likely to protect Merlin’s feelings and shield him from their blunt concerns about sorcerers being able to live freely amongst the townspeople, he thought grimly. Still, a morning off was nothing to be sniffed at, and he _had_ been itching to look up a few things in the small library of books he had been acquiring. These days, he had been focusing on increasing his arsenal of offensive spells, given that he now had a safe space to carry them out in. Of course, the proof of their success would be when he actually had to use them on another, but it was not a prospect that he relished. He wondered how the knights did it. How they went into battle knowing full well that they were going to be killing countless people. Not that Merlin was innocent in that respect. He knew all too well that he had blood on his hands. Every death he’d been the cause of, every murder— because that’s what it was when you killed another, wasn’t it?—was a failure of his character. When he thought back to how pure and innocent he’d been when he had first come to Camelot, starry-eyed and full of hope, he could cry. He was just glad that his mother didn’t know, didn’t realise the monster he had become. Who was he to hold judgment over others and decide whether they deserved to live or die for their crimes?

And war—war was all so _senseless_. Such a huge loss of lives and hopes and dreams, and all in pursuit of more power. More money. Pure greed. Perhaps now that Arthur was king they could end that, bring about the golden age that they were supposedly destined to bring into being, but it was hard to imagine just how that could happen when they were actively preparing for a war with Morgana’s Saxon army.

He wondered if John, the scout, might make it back today. He was the fastest horseman they had, but the border Camelot shared with Lot’s kingdom was still some distance away. Maybe if the going was good and his horse had not tired, they might get the news Arthur so desperately craved. Arthur was being driven to distraction with uncertainty about the future, and though they both felt bad about it, they were finding it more difficult than ever to keep their hands off each other. Even though the situation was dire, and it seemed like sex should be the furthest thing from their minds, they were more drawn to each other than ever, and both of them found comfort in it. Even now, when Merlin knew he should be studying and preparing himself for the days, weeks, perhaps months ahead, he was fantasizing about the next time he might be accosted by Arthur, or vice-versa. It was so bad now that Merlin was sure that it was rapidly becoming common knowledge all around the castle, due to their sudden increase in disappearances and then re-appearances looking rather a bit too dishevelled. And perhaps because of those one or two occasions when they might have not been careful enough...

Perhaps he should just finish early. It wasn’t like he was getting very much studying done. His heart and mind just weren’t in it. Arthur might be done with his meetings, and if he was, it was likely he’d appreciate the company. Merlin pushed his chair away from the desk and with a flick of his hand, he returned one of the books to its proper place on his rather sparse bookshelf. He left the other on the desk, intending to look at it the next morning. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and headed for the door.

As he opened it, he almost jumped out of his skin to see Arthur standing there. He pressed a hand against his chest as his heart raced.

“Arthur!” he said. “You startled me. Any news?”

“No, I just thought I might… come and see how my favourite sorcerer was getting on. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

He grinned lecherously, and Merlin huffed out a laugh. Arthur was so obvious, but he wasn’t about to call him out on it. Arthur advanced on him until he had Merlin pressed up against the wall, his lips ravishing Merlin’s throat.

“I don’t know how you expect me to get any work done like this,” gasped Merlin as Arthur ran a hand up his thigh to grasp his arse, his magic starting to hum and dance under his skin.

“Then don’t,” murmured Arthur. “Spend time with me, instead.”

“I’m supposed to be p—practicing!” Merlin protested, as Arthur sucked a kiss into the side of his neck.

“You are practicing. You’re practicing how to please your king. A very important skill,” Arthur reminded him. 

Not that Merlin needed the practice; it was a skill he was extremely well-versed and practiced in.

Merlin managed to slip out from underneath Arthur and headed over to his desk. Abandoning his previous intentions in favour of teasing Arthur, he resumed reading the open page of his book, whilst Arthur made an outraged noise behind him.

“I told you, I’m busy.”

Arthur harrumphed, and Merlin heard him approach as he tried to focus on the description of the spell on the page in front of him. After all, it was important that he learned as many new spells as possible so that he could be completely prepared for when Morgana decided to strike again. He refused to just sit back and let her murder innocent townspeople. Arthur and the people of Camelot deserved better. They deserved a protector who actually protected, rather than reacted from the shadows. 

He heard rustling noises in the background, but ignored them the same way he pushed away the pleasant tingle of magic just beneath his skin where Arthur had touched and teased him. Let Arthur work for his attention for once. It wouldn’t hurt him to know that not even a king could have everything the way that he wanted it.

The spell he was looking at was rather dry, as so many of them were, and he was having to re-read it several times over before he could process what the words were actually saying.

Hands wrapped around his calves, and Merlin froze, his magic immediately fizzing up his spine. Oh, it was like that, was it? He casually turned the page of the book, despite not having finished with it, feigning nonchalance as Arthur’s hands crept further up his legs to the backs of his knees, and then slowly up his thighs. Merlin bit his lip and turned another page, annoyed at himself for the way his cock was filling and his breeches were becoming tight. To say nothing of his traitorous magic.

Arthur’s hands found their way to Merlin’s arse, which he paused to caress and fondle. Merlin bit back a laugh, as it brought back memories of their first time together. They had so many mishaps and bumps and bruises, they’d both ended up helpless with laughter for a few minutes, only finding success after several enthusiastic, but slightly misguided attempts, neither of them having pleasured a man before. But it had been a delight none-the-less as they both had experimented and discovered what they liked best. Merlin had discovered that Arthur rather enjoyed his backslide any way that he could get it. Touching it, looking at it, fondling it, fucking it. Merlin wasn’t quite sure why Arthur was so fixated on it, when his own arse was rather magnificent and far nicer than Merlin’s own, in his opinion. But he wasn’t going to complain.

Hands pushed his shirt and jacket up his back and then fingers curled into the waistband of his breeches, eagerly tugging them down and exposing Merlin’s arse to the air. Merlin dug his fingers into the desk, biting the inside of his cheek and using his free hand he turned the page, doing his best to act unperturbed and unflappable in the wake of Arthur’s actions. 

As he read—or rather, pretended to read—the spellbook, Arthur pushed his cheeks apart, and Merlin jumped as a warm, wet tongue began to lap at his hole. He stilled himself, holding onto the edges of the desk so hard he was sure he’d gouge marks in it before Arthur was done. Arthur continued his work, swirling his tongue and licking away, driving Merlin to distraction so completely that he didn’t even try to pretend to read. Arthur snaked his tongue into his hole, pushing past the muscle there and speedily thrusting it in and out. A whimper escaped Merlin’s lips, and sparks of magic emitted from fingertips. Arthur paused for a brief moment, and Merlin could feel the way he was grinning against his arse. He was going to be unbearably smug for the rest of the day.

He carried on, driving Merlin half-mad as he bit back most of the noises that threatened to spill from his lips and shoved his magic down yet again. Why was this so difficult now? Before Arthur had known, Merlin had had such perfect control of his magic—well, okay. Not _perfect_ ; it had always been an ever-present simmering beneath his skin, but Arthur had never suspected a thing. Now it was like he was a teenager again, his magic constantly slipping from his grip and having outbursts of its own accord. It was like a dam had burst, and now that he was free to use his magic he couldn’t make it stop.

With a shaking hand, he reached for the book and managed to turn a page. Arthur growled and doubled down, pushing a finger in along with his tongue. Merlin cried out, unable to hold back as Arthur worked him open. 

“Ah, ah! Oh shit, A—Arthur. Nggh. I—I’m... I—” 

Merlin was unable to get a grasp on his thoughts, or his words, as Arthur continued using his fingers and tongue to full effect. He gasped and steadied himself against the desk with both hands, helpless to do anything other than enjoy it. Heat and magic swirled through his gut as he writhed and twisted at Arthur’s touch, which was both too much and not enough. 

Eventually, Arthur pulled away, his joints clicking as he got up from his knees.

Merlin stood, still half-bent over the desk and waiting as patiently as he could for Arthur’s next move. Arthur reached over him and grasped Merlin’s hand, moving it towards the book.

“I thought you said you were busy,” he whispered in Merlin’s ear. “Maybe you should get a closer look at your book.”

He pushed Merlin’s head down and slowly pressed his cock against Merlin’s sloppy, loose hole before pushing all the way in.

“That’s it,” he continued. “Please, do go on, Merlin. You don’t need to stop on _my_ account.” And he gave a sharp thrust that bumped Merlin’s hips against the table’s edge.

Merlin reached out for the book, his fingers closing around it. He pulled it closer as Arthur started to plunge in and out at a leisurely pace, but the words on the page were mere blurs as Arthur gripped his hips and continued to thrust, the air around them static and heavy with magic. Merlin groaned, his hand scrunching up the page. Behind him, Arthur hitched Merlin’s leg up onto the desk and pushed in deeper. Merlin cried out with every skilled thrust, abandoning any and all pretense of not wanting it, and pushed back into Arthur’s lunges, as they worked together to get themselves off. 

Arthur shifted their positions again, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s chest and lifting him from the desk, grunting with effort as he pumped his hips, and Merlin dangled, unable to do anything but take the onslaught of Arthur’s cock. Oh, gods, Arthur was in so deep and treating him just the right amount of rough. Merlin grasped for his own cock and worked his hand, feeling his orgasm cresting. The air around them crackled like a lightning storm and a breeze whipped around them, but Arthur carried on thrusting up and up and up. Merlin’s vision blurred as he came hard across his desk, and Arthur pushed him back down onto it, pushing into him hard and fast until his rhythm became staccato and he juddered to a stop, pumping his release as deeply as he could. He slumped on top of Merlin, exhausted by his efforts. Merlin didn’t blame him; he was pretty spent himself. 

“What time is it??” Arthur finally muttered. 

Merlin hummed from underneath him. “Dunno. Probably at least midday.”

“Midday!” exclaimed Arthur, pulling away, leaving Merlin grimacing at the mess. He pulled up his breeches and started to tie the laces. “I’m supposed to be having lunch with half the council! Why didn’t you remind me?”

Turning around to face him as he rearranged his own breeches, Merlin scowled at him. “Hey, you were the one who started this! I wanted to work, remember?”

Arthur huffed, disgruntled. “You still should have reminded me.”

“Oh, I’ll just quiz you the next time I’m fucking you and we’ll see how well you do! Besides, you’re the king. The council work for you.”

“You couldn’t tell that to a certain manservant of mine, could you?” Arthur groused as he buttoned his shirt and smoothed out his hair.

Merlin grinned and shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think he’d listen.”

***

The next day, John returned, and the news was not good. Morgana’s army was more than ready. They had decided to take advantage of the break in the snowy conditions to start advancing towards Camelot, heading over the border from Lot’s kingdom in an official act of defiance against the king. To say Arthur was worried was an understatement; he’d paced his chambers so many times, Merlin was worried he might start wearing a path in the floor. The scout had also reported large groups of sorcerers amongst their ranks, far outstripping any kind of magical capacity Camelot was likely to muster, especially given the current hostile atmosphere. That was particularly worrying. Morgana in and of herself was a challenge, and Merlin had no clue how he’d be able to fight her as well as entire teams of sorcerers. He was only one man against many. They needed to make it safe for people to come forward, so that they could form their magical defences. But time was against them. Even if they had many people ready to step forward now, magical abilities were all so varied that there was no way of knowing how useful they might be. 

It was still unknown whether Morgana knew about the lifting of the ban, and what her opinion might be if so. Arthur had had half a mind to send Gwaine and Percival out to investigate; taverns were useful places for information like that. But he’d decided against it in the end. If Morgana was going to attack, he would need his best men by his side; well-trained, loyal, and raring to go. Not out scouting around goodness knows where. Arthur had resolved that they would send John out again soon, once the man had had a couple of decent night's rest, reckoning that he should be nondescript enough to escape anyone’s notice in the same way Merlin was.

With the danger ever present and every day bringing more bad news, Merlin and Arthur turned to each other even more. There weren’t more than a few hours that would pass between their meetings and getting each other off. The quiet corners of the castle and the abandoned bedrooms had started to see more action than they had in months. 

Arthur found himself similarly accosted by Merlin that very morning as he passed a tapestry. A hand shot out, and had he not been taken off-guard, Arthur might have yanked Merlin out of his hiding spot at the point of a sword. Given the circumstances, however, Merlin successfully hauled him behind the fabric and dragged him close to quieten him with a kiss. Arthur yielded instinctively to Merlin’s enthusiastic tongue as fingers tangled in his hair and a hand closed around his hip, and he found himself being carefully manipulated into an alcove and pushed against the cold stone wall. 

“Sorry,” Merlin gasped against his lips. “Couldn’t wait until tonight to see you.” 

He pressed another eager kiss to Arthur’s mouth, his hand tracing Arthur’s jaw and a thumb rubbing tenderly at the corner of his lips. Arthur wondered when Merlin had heard the news; he’d been busy with Gaius the entire morning, or so Arthur had thought. But Merlin must know to be reacting like this; gentle, tender, but desperate. Morgana was on the move again, and the council had started preparing for war once more. 

Merlin’s lips skimmed his cheek and caressed his neck, the air around them hot and heavy, and so dark Arthur could barely make out Merlin in the gloom. He groaned as he tipped his head to allow Merlin better access and Merlin licked and bit his way to where Arthur’s shoulder met his neck. He continued moving up Arthur’s throat, scattering kisses along the way and whispering words against his skin; _I love you, I need you, I’ll protect you._ Merlin sank his teeth in and sucked hard, and Arthur choked back a startled cry as Merlin marked him just below his ear. As he pulled away, soothing the pain with lips and a swipe of his tongue, Merlin started to chant; low and deep, ancient, powerful words. His fingers traced a pattern on Arthur’s chest, confident and deliberate, and as Arthur looked up his eyes began to light up with a blinding gold, as did a symbol on his chest. When he had finished the incantation, Merlin pushed Arthur back against the wall, pinning him there with hands and hips as he took Arthur’s breath away with a bruising kiss.

Pressing his forehead to Arthur’s, Merlin let out a sob. “I can’t lose you, Arthur. I can’t.”

“Shh, shh,” whispered Arthur, rubbing his arms. “You won’t. I have no intention of going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to,” came Merlin’s voice, cutting bitterly through the darkness. “There have been five attempts on your life this past week.”

“But none of them succeeded,” said Arthur, sliding his arms around Merlin’s waist to hold him close, feeling the solid warmth of his body against his.

“The people are angry, Arthur, and they’re scared. Morgana is coming, magic is legal, they don’t know what’s up from down. And now, the news of war...”

“In time, they will learn that magic is nothing to fear. You’ve been helping heal people with magic for weeks now,” said Arthur.

“Well…”

“Merlin...” sighed Arthur. 

“There’s a reason Gaius is an infamous physician, Arthur. I’m sorry, but I’ve been helping where I could for years now.”

“Then that’s all the more reason people should know who you really are,” whispered Arthur. “They will know that they have been safe under your care for years, and so there is nothing they need fear.”

Arthur could just make out the shaking of Merlin’s head. “That’s not how they see it and you know it.”

“One day they will, and you will be honoured for it.”

“I don’t _want_ to be—”

Arthur hushed him with a sudden kiss. “I know. But you deserve to be. And I’m going to be fine, I swear. I’m planning on being around for a long while yet.”

Merlin tugged him close by the lapels of his jacket and licked into his mouth. “I will—hold you—to that,” he said between kisses.

With a satisfied moan, Arthur allowed himself to be pressed up against the wall again. He threaded his fingers into Merlin’s hair, reveling in the silky smooth strands, as Merlin’s long, lean fingers tugged at the laces of Arthur’s breeches, unknotting them and pulling them open. He shoved his hand inside and rubbed the heel of his hand firmly down the length of Arthur’s cock before drawing it back and pumping Arthur’s cock in long, drawn-out strokes.

In the low light, Arthur could see Merlin staring at him, serious and intense. It sent a shiver down his spine as he realised that this man who held such extraordinary power in his hands—power that, according to Gaius, rivaled Morgana herself—would do _anything, everything_ to keep him safe. He reached for Merlin’s jacket, pulling him close for a kiss, unable to deal with such devotion that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t know what Merlin saw in him; he was a flawed and defective man, trying his best and falling far short of what his people deserved. And yet Merlin stood by him, encouraged him, supported him. And he always had, right from the beginning. He believed in the man that he thought Arthur would become, and Arthur wanted to be that man for him.

He tugged at Merlin’s laces, dipping one hand inside and wrapping his fingers around his cock, bringing his other hand up to the small of Merlin’s back to draw him closer. He knocked Merlin’s hand away from his cock and took them both in hand, swiping his thumb across the head of Merlin’s cock and drawing a quiet moan from him. Merlin placed his hands either side of Arthur’s head and slowly pushed his cock in and out of the circle of Arthur’s fist. The friction as they rubbed together was delectable. 

They worked together, moving in conjunction with each other slowly and deliberately; savouring every moment, every feeling as though it could be their last. Hips rolling and tongues dipping deep, they swallowed each other's moans as that hot, molten feeling started to pool in Arthur’s belly, bringing him unbearably close to losing control, teetering on a knife's edge.

He kept pumping his hand, giving his wrist a flick on the upstroke, and Merlin stilled above him with a low groan, drawn deep from within as he spilled hot and wet over Arthur’s shirt, his eyes aglow. The magic skimmed across Arthur’s skin, sending a shudder down his spine, and that was enough for him to follow suit, tipping headlong into orgasm as he bit back a moan.

Soon, the far-off noises of the castle brought Arthur back to earth with a bump. For a while, he had forgotten that they were tucked away in a little nook along one of the busiest corridors between his chambers and the throne room. No one else had existed; he hadn’t needed anything else. Now, the weight of monarchy came down upon him as he tugged up his breeches.

“I should go. The council are expecting me,” he said.

“Of course,” agreed Merlin, and he muttered a spell under his breath to clean them up.

“Come with me,” said Arthur. “I need your eyes and ears. I need you to give me your opinion on our plans.”

Merlin smiled, one of those small pleased smiles that made Arthur’s stomach flip. It was the kind of smile he lived for, because it meant he’d done something good. That he had met Merlin’s expectations somehow.

“You need me, huh?” Merlin looked up at Arthur through his eyelashes as he tangled their fingers together, his smile turned teasing.

“Don’t push your luck,” Arthur warned him.


	9. Chapter 9

The days passed quickly after that, every moment bringing them that much closer to their stand off with Morgana, and Arthur was grimly determined to have it out with her once and for all. No more mercy. No more holding back. She had drawn the line in the sand with her ruthless invasion of Camelot, and Arthur refused to have his kingdom suffer again.

The scouts had sent back valuable messages which helped to inform their plans. Ingeniously, Merlin examined every message before they shared them in council meetings, checking for any signs of magic or tampering. He found none, and Arthur felt sure that their contents were true. They were due to depart tomorrow, and tensions in the castle were running high, with the exception of a few steadfast and solid members of the household such as Geoffrey, whose feathers would only ever be ruffled by something happening to his precious books. Even Gaius had been quite emotional the previous morning, insisting that Merlin stay with him the night before so that they could have breakfast together in the morning. Merlin’s arrival had done wonders for Gaius and given him a renewed purpose in life. Arthur could relate. 

As the early morning sun made its presence known, Arthur paced nervously across his room, checking on the courtyard with an alarming frequency to ensure all was well and Morgana hadn’t suddenly materialised there right in front of his eyes. He couldn’t entirely rule that out as a possibility with sorcery involved. 

He’d missed Merlin’s presence when he had woken up in his bed that morning. He missed his solid warmth and octopus limbs, and the way that sometimes, somehow, he’d managed to take up the entire bed. But most of all, Arthur missed Merlin’s ability to inject a sense of calm and stability into his chambers. Without him, he felt as though he were at sea without an anchor. Not falling apart, but rudderless.

If Merlin had been there and Arthur had voiced his ridiculous worry about Morgana, he would have pointed out how unlikely it was and told him to stop worrying about the things they couldn’t control. Arthur knew that their plans were solid. They were good plans. And if all went accordingly, they would come out of this victorious. But would it really all go according to plan? As far as Arthur could tell, things could always be relied upon to take a turn for the unexpected when magic was thrown into the mix.

At least Camelot had started to make a bit of progress there. Gauis had been privately instructing some of the magic users who had come forward. Those who were good with a sword had been recruited into their army to form a small sorcerers division. Arthur had instructed his roundtable knights to look out for them and report back on any soldiers who gave them trouble. He was aware that now was the worst time to cause unrest within their ranks, but they’d need everything they could get if they were to defeat Morgana, including magical offense and protection. 

Arthur had wanted Merlin to lead them, but he had refused to be anywhere but at Arthur’s side. Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing, given his penchant for getting into trouble. Arthur was definitely going to be Morgana’s main target. They already had a group of knights that had been tasked to stay close to him in battle in order to see off as many threats to the king as possible, but there had been no plans put into place to protect him from magic. It was rather a silly oversight of the council, who were still trying to adjust to the idea of magic being legal in the first place, but one that Arthur was willing to let them overlook, knowing that he would have Merlin by his side. Arthur had already arranged for new armour to be forged for Merlin, because he would be damned if his manservant went into _this_ battle unprotected as he had done so many others. Gaius had cautioned against giving Merlin too much protection because it would risk slowing him down, so Arthur had tailored things accordingly. The new pieces had arrived early that morning and were waiting for Merlin’s return to the king’s chambers so that he could try them on. Arthur ran his hand over the cold, smooth metal. He had ordered a modified set of armour to be produced; a hauberk designed to be lightweight, yet strong, along with a pauldron and spaulder that even had a small amount of intricate carving on it, the pattern matching the one on Arthur’s own armour. There was also a dragon chasing a merlin in flight along the gauntlets. Arthur traced the dragon with his fingers. The armour was perfect. The possessive streak in him couldn’t wait to see Merlin in it. Completing the look, and laid out next to the armour, was a bright blue gambeson and one of Arthur’s finest short swords. It was no Excalibur, but it was much lighter which should suit Merlin’s strength, should he find himself in need of a blade.

Arthur started to pace again. Merlin’s new armour had only been a temporary distraction. He’d written a speech last night, one that he hoped would invoke a sense of unity and a will to work together to overcome the most imminent threat on their lives, and Arthur wanted Merlin to look over it. He had a way with words and a grasp on languages which were at least as good as Arthur’s own. Surpassing him, in fact, given that Merlin could read the language of the old religion. He took another glance out of the window to the courtyard, and his heart gave a glad beat when he spotted Merlin making his way across it. He was looking up at Arthur’s window, though Arthur knew from experience that unless the window was open or something pressed right up against it, it was impossible to see if anyone was standing there by day. That was part of the reason why it was one of his favourite thinking spots, as he watched the activities of the castle below. 

With Merlin on his way, Arthur made his way over to his desk to grab his speech and then sat himself down at the table. A short while later, Merlin hurried in. He deposited a serving plate on the table with a clatter and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips, then took his place at the table.

“Sorry,” he said, out of breath. “I know I’m late. Gaius didn’t wake me.”

Arthur huffed under his breath and reached for the plate. 

“So, what’s the plan for the day?” Merlin asked cheerily.

Arthur thought for a moment, chewing on a piece of bread. All of his usual responsibilities had been cancelled today, and for the foreseeable future for that matter. Today was a day of preparation before they headed off into battle. 

“Overseeing the final preparations, talking with my knights, giving them a talk to buoy their confidence, check in with the council one last time... Oh, and get you to try on your armour.”

“Armour?” asked Merlin with a frown. “I haven’t got any armour.”

Arthur nodded over towards the sideboard, and Merlin followed the movement, his eyes widening as they alighted on the pile of armour there.

“Go ahead, try it on.”

Merlin pushed his chair away from the table and approached the armour cautiously. He stood there just staring at it.

“What’s wrong with it?” Arthur asked. 

“N-nothing,” said Merlin. “It’s just… it’s too much Arthur. You shouldn’t have.”

Getting up from the table, Arthur walked over and picked up the gambeson. 

“Consider it payment for services rendered to the crown. Services above and beyond that which is required. Besides,” he said sternly, reaching for and squeezing Merlin’s hand, “I’m not going to have you running headlong into battle without protection this time. Now, put it on. I want to see it on you.”

“So bossy,” Merlin murmured as he took off his jacket. In a reversal of their usual roles, Arthur busied himself helping Merlin to dress, first helping him into his hauberk, then lifting the pauldron over Merlin’s head and fastening it securely. He strapped on the spaulders and grasped Merlin’s slender wrists to push the gauntlets on. Once they had been secured, Merlin gazed at them, tracing the pattern, just like Arthur had earlier that morning.

“They’re beautiful, Arthur,” he said, swallowing heavily.

“Agreed,” said Arthur. “Now, stay there.”

Arthur turned on his heels and made his way over to his wardrobe. He opened the door and reached inside pulling something out. He held it behind his back as he approached Merlin and then lifted it above Merlin’s head; his circlet. 

It wasn’t exactly perfect. He’d envisioned having something that had been especially made for Merlin, to show his own heritage as the last of the Dragonlords. But that could come later, when Arthur did things properly; for now he just wanted to have a promise, an understanding between the two of them.

He placed it on Merlin’s head, and Merlin balked.

“Arthur! What the… Why are you— Take it off!”

“No, I won’t. It’s perfect where it is.” 

Merlin’s face contorted with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Merlin,” said Arthur seriously, catching Merlin’s hands in his. He stared down at the slim, strong fingers of his manservant and cleared his throat before meeting Merlin’s eyes, his gaze flicking up to the circlet that looked perfectly natural in Merlin’s hair. “When this is over and we’re back here, chances are the people will know about you. I want to ask you to become my consort and Court Sorcerer. Not right now—” he said, cutting off Merlin who had opened his mouth to respond, “but at some point, when we get back. I want to make it official. You’re the one I want by my side. So, what do you say? Will you at least think about it?”

Merlin scratched the back of his head, and his scowl deepend. “Fine. But I’m not going to be your queen, okay? I still want to be able to be me. And I’m not— I’m not good enough for this Arthur. For any of it! I’m just a servant. _Your_ servant. I’m not royalty material.”

“No, you’re not. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, trust me. You’d still be mine, you know. Just in a slightly different way. Anyway, promise me you’ll think about it.”

“Fine,” said Merlin. “Can I take it off now?”

Arthur pouted. “But it suits you.”

“Maybe I’ll wear it for you later,” said Merlin with a teasing smile. “Now help me get the rest of this off. I’m sweltering.”


	10. Chapter 10

As the king woke up the next morning with Merlin curled around him like a cat, a wave of realisation came crashing down on him. Today was the day. Within the next hour, they would be preparing to leave the castle and ride out to meet Morgana in battle.

He bet if he pulled back the curtain and looked down on the courtyard, it would be a veritable hive of activity, filled with servants, soldiers and knights seeing to last minute things, horses and carts being readied for their journey. They weren’t going far, but given the fact that they were traveling as an entire army, a distance that could potentially have been covered in a day, if they rode fast enough, was actually going to take them at least two. The horses were carrying heavy loads and some of the army were on foot, so they could not move as swiftly as Arthur wished, and he knew that word would soon get out to Morgana that they were on the move. Merlin had told him not to worry about it, but that was easy for him to say. Arthur didn’t know how he could be so calm about the situation whilst he felt like he was falling apart inside. Some king he was. Merlin should have said yes yesterday, and at least then Camelot would have one king that had it together. 

He wondered whether the plans they’d made really had any chance of succeeding. He had talked them up to the others, because that’s what he needed to do. He needed morale and confidence to be high, and there was no point voicing your fears and doubts to those below you. Not even Leon knew of his concerns. It was only Merlin who knew that Arthur was doubting himself again. Though Arthur did not see how Merlin could really understand what he was going through. He was sending hundreds of men to their deaths to defend his kingdom, and Arthur would feel responsible for every single one of them; he would look their widows directly in the eye and tell them he was sorry for their loss, and say a few words about their loved one, if he knew them. What could possibly compare to that?

“It’s going to be fine,” Merlin mumbled sleepily. “Don’t worry. What will happen will happen.”

“But so many people are going to die—”

“And how many _more_ will die if we don’t stop her?”

Merlin wrapped his arms tightly around him, and Arthur held him close, savouring the thud-thud-thud of Merlin’s heart against his chest, trying his best not to wonder if it might be for the very last time.

“I suppose we ought to get up,” he said.

Merlin hummed and snuggled closer still. “Not yet,” he said. “Let’s stay here for a little longer.”

Arthur ran a hand through Merlin’s messy hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Fine,” he agreed.

They lay in bed together for as long as Arthur dared; he knew it wouldn’t look good if he was late, given he was to lead his army out the gates. Then Merlin slipped out to grab a quick breakfast, and Arthur dressed himself. 

Once breakfasted and ready in his armour, and having cajoled Merlin into his, Arthur headed out into the courtyard. Heads turned as he walked through the troops, Merlin following behind him. Arthur held his head high, and a small, proud smile graced his lips as he heard a quiet murmuring from the crowd and curious eyes turned towards Merlin, rather than the king himself. Merlin may have refused to wear Arthur’s circlet, but the armour’s message was clear for all to see. Merlin was now officially his unofficial consort, and it tickled him.

“Arthur,” murmured Merlin quietly as he fastened his new sword to his horse's saddle. “People are staring. Why are they looking at _me_?”

Arthur grinned at him smugly. “Because they finally realised you’re such an idiot that the only way I can keep you from harm is to wrap you up in armour.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Merlin scowled, focusing on adjusting the strap on Aster’s saddle.

“Or it could be because they’ve just realised your new place in the royal household.”

“What!?” Merlin hissed.

Arthur shrugged and glanced around at his army, who were likewise preparing to mount their horses.

“It’s not like they didn’t already know that you’re my consort. We were pretty obvious about it. And those who hadn’t put one and one together, well, they’re now learning how to come up with two.”

Merlin bit his lip. “And you couldn’t have warned me?”

With a scoff, Arthur got ready to mount his horse, Hengroen. “Of course not,” he said dismissively. “You’d never have worn it otherwise. And I meant it, Merlin. I won’t have you running into battles without armour any longer. Those days are long gone. Now, come on. We need to get moving.”

He swung up onto his horse and smothered an amused smile as Merlin mounted his, in his typical Merlin way. His heart filled with fondness for the man before him, bolstering his spirits for the war that lay ahead. He was content now, and felt ready to wait as long as Merlin needed, now that everyone knew the truth about the two of them. He gave Merlin a small nod before turning his horse and cantering forward a few steps. 

He drew his sword and held Excalibur aloft.

“For the love of Camelot!” he yelled, and the phrase echoed back to him in an impressive roar.

And with that, they were off.

***

They made good progress on the first day, trooping slowly forward, thus far undetected. As they made camp for the evening, Merlin called Arthur over to him.

“I need you to cause some kind of… I don’t know, a distraction? Or a pep talk. You like giving those. Everyone’s eyes on you and your big hea—”

“Merlin,” said Arthur warningly. “Why?”

Merlin sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I’m going to set a protection circle around the whole camp, so that, in theory, no one should be able to get in and anyone who passes by won’t notice us at all.”

“You can do that?” asked Arthur, eagerly.

“I think so. I mean, I’ve done it before for us when we’ve camped overnight. But never for this many people and on this scale. But in theory, it should work.”

“Do it,” Arthur commanded, before turning to head into the centre of the camp.

As he snuck away into the gloom at the edge of their encampment, Merlin heard Arthur behind him calling everyone together. It probably wouldn’t be everyone, but hopefully enough so that he could work with ease, anchoring the spell at strategic points around the area.

He worked quickly and quietly, sneaking around the camp, now thankfully dressed in his normal clothes, whispering words and pushing magic deep into the earth. As he finished the last one, he felt the spell click into place—and the point of a sword poke him in the back. He froze.

“What exactly are you doing?” asked the man who was stood behind him. In a blind panic, Merlin felt around and pulled up a plant from the ground. 

“Herbs!” Merlin declared, with his most gormless grin, looking up into Sir Caridoc’s face. 

“Merlin?” snarled Sir Caridoc.

“The one and only!” he quipped.

Sir Caridoc scowled. “No, it can’t be,” he said, raising his sword again and pressing it into Merlin’s chest. “Does the king know?”

“Does the king know what?” Merlin asked as innocently as he could.

Pressing the sword a little harder, Sir Caridoc spat, “That his servant is a sorcerer!”

“Magic is legal now,” Merlin pointed out, trying to avoid either confirming or denying the accusation.

“I should march you to him right now. Especially since he seems so taken with you. I always did think that was rather strange; I mean, what could a king see in a servant boy? I bet you’ve bewitched him!”

Merlin shook his head. “You’ve got it all wrong,” he said. “But given that I have the favour of the king, as you pointed out, I think you ought to watch where you point your sword, _Sir_ Caridoc.”

“Hey, what’s wrong,” called a voice, and as Leon started to stride over, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

The knight turned to Sir Leon. 

“Ah, Sir Leon. Just in time. I’m afraid that I just caught King Arthur’s servant in the midst of performing magic.”

Leon shrugged. “Magic is no longer illegal, Sir Caridoc.”

“Oh, come on,” snarled Sir Caridoc. “You know as well as I do that sorcery is evil! You’re old enough to remember the Great Purge. And now we have this sneaky, deceitful sorcerer who has made himself comfortable in our king’s bed! Poisoning his mind and taking down the kingdom from within. Magic right at the heart of Camelot! We must inform him.”

“Merlin? Magic?” said Leon with confusion. “You must be mistaken, Sir Caridoc. And surely you’re not implying that our king is wrong?”

“I am saying that he has been manipulated! By _him_!” said Sir Caridoc pointing squarely at Merlin.

With a hearty laugh, Leon pushed Sir Caridoc’s sword away and helped Merlin to his feet. “Don’t be so foolish, Sir Caridoc. This is _Merlin_ we’re talking about! I am certain that your eyes must have played tricks on you. I’ve known Merlin since he first came to court. If he was an evil sorcerer, as you suggest, surely he would have offed King Uther and King Arthur long ago. He’s certainly had ample opportunity.”

“But—but—!”

“I am willing to overlook this, Sir Caridoc, because I know of your father's ardent views on magic users. However, you should be careful and hold your tongue when it comes to telling lies about the king’s consort. Now, if Merlin is in agreement, let us forget the whole thing ever happened and get back to camp.”

When they got back to camp, Sir Leon skillfully lead Sir Caridoc away from Arthur’s tent and busied him with work around the camp. There was plenty to do with people going to and fro, forming campfires where men gathered around as the lowest ranking around them cooked food over the flames.

Finally, once everyone had eaten their fill, they started to drift off to their tents, with a small contingency of men spreading out as they took the first shift guarding the perimeter.

***

Arthur sat in his tent, waiting patiently for Merlin to return. A hush had fallen over the camp, typical of such campaigns as everyone settled down that night to grab whatever sleep they could muster. A part of Arthur wished that he could be out there himself, sleeping amongst his men like he had done back when he was a squire and a newly minted knight. But that was before he had come of age and been officially declared Camelot's heir. 

Since then, he'd been distanced from his men by rank and duty, segregated in a tent of his own when they went to battle. He missed it. 

There was a sudden rustling noise as Merlin slipped into his tent.

"Ah, there you are Merlin," Arthur said, getting up to greet him. 

Merlin closed the tent flap, swiftly lacing it up behind him. He had been off cleaning dishes after dinner, fetching water, seeing to the horses and a plethora of other duties assigned to the servants amongst them. 

"You know, you don't have to do that, don't you?” Arthur pointed out. “I've all but named you as my consort.”

Merlin frowned fiercely. “Yes, and I wish you hadn't," he complained. "They all look at me differently now. I don't like it. They've known me for years and years and now all of a sudden they're all quiet around me and minding their p's and q's!"

"Welcome to being royalty," Arthur said. 

“Oh, and another thing. Sir Caridoc _knows_.”

“Knows?” asked Arthur, helping Merlin to take off his cloak.

Merlin sighed and flopped down into a chair. “He saw me anchoring the protection spell.”

Arthur hummed. “Oh. That’s not great.”

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed.

“I should probably go and talk to him about it,” said Arthur, heading towards the tent opening, “otherwise the whole of the camp will know by morning. Maybe I can have Leon talk some sense into him. Their families have been allies and good friends ever since they were small.”

Merlin shook his head. “Leon’s already with him. Or, he was when I left them. He intervened when Sir Caridoc had me at the end of his sword.”

Arthur turned sharply on his heel to glare angrily at Merlin. “The little—! I ought to—! Threatening _my consort_ like that! Magic isn’t even illegal any more. I—”

During his rage, Arthur hadn’t noticed Merlin approaching him, and he laid a hand on his arm. 

“Arthur,” he said softly. “Just forget about it, okay? There are going to be plenty of people who feel like Caridoc. He’s not the only one who’s resentful and scared by this change to their lives. Like you said, Sir Leon can handle it. And it’s not as though people won’t find out about me tomorrow. Now, come on, forget about him. Come to bed with me.”

Arthur took a deep breath and let go of his anger. He couldn’t afford to have it ruin what could be his last night—their last night. He let Merlin lead him away from the entrance of the tent and over to the bed, a far cry from his bed back in Camelot, but a lot more comfort than the rest of his troops would get tonight. He felt guilty about that, but he knew that it was customary, and even if he had ordered for it to be left behind, it would have appeared in his tent when he arrived, as if by magic. It was a relic of the past where a monarch would show off their wealth no matter where they were, and his people were determined to follow this protocol.

He stood there whilst Merlin started to flit around him, taking off his cape and sword belt—he’d removed the rest of his armour earlier, but hesitated to be without a sword at his side given the current situation. Tomorrow, they would leave the camp behind as it was and head for their planned battlefield. Tomorrow, Arthur would end things, and one way or another, Pendragon blood would be spilled.

He barely registered the kiss Merlin pressed to his temple, but snapped back to attention when Merlin bent to remove Arthur’s boots and socks. He snatched at Merlin’s arm and hauled him back up.

“What are you doing?” he snapped. 

A small triangle of a frown marred Merlin’s forehead. “I’m taking off your boots.”

“You don’t need to do that anymore, Merlin. You don’t need to do any of the things you used to do, Not any more. You’re my consort now.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows so high they disappeared in his hairline. “Not yet, I’m not. And when I do, I don’t _want_ things to change. I’m still your servant, and I always will be.”

He bent again and this time Arthur let him work, removing his boots and socks. Merlin stayed on his knees, looking up at Arthur with tender, devoted eyes as he eased Arthur’s breeches over his hips. Arthur sucked in a breath as Merlin licked his lips and a smile graced his mouth. Merlin ran his lips down Arthur’s hip following the line and sinew there, the touch a tease followed up by gentle caress of his fingers and he made a deep contented noise as he pressed his face there, holding Arthur close. 

Arthur’s cock began to twitch and fill with interest, and he felt a twinge of disappointment when Merlin got up. He started to pull off his own clothes, and stumbled over his own boots on his way to the bed. Arthur caught him before he could fall and whisked him into his arms. He closed his eyes and savoured the moment, Merlin’s skin was soft and warm against his, and Arthur felt like he could hold Merlin like this forever. He pressed his nose into his hair and inhaled that unique scent of woody, herby earth that always clung to him. So familiar and so comforting. He wished that he could bottle it.

Merlin took a few steps back until his calves hit the bed and then he fell back onto it, pulling Arthur with him letting out an oof sound at the weight of Arthur on top of him. Nonetheless, now relocated, Merlin smiled up at him and reached up to smooth Arthur’s hair back from his forehead. Arthur pushed away all other thoughts, determined to focus on the current moment. Not that that was a hardship with Merlin. He lent down and kissed him, mentally cataloguing every feeling, every sensation to commit to memory. He wanted to remember this moment forever, even though neither of them knew how much longer forever would be. Below him, Merlin bucked and began to roll his hips against Arthur, and Arthur’s body instinctively started to respond as he thrust back, the friction of smooth skin-on-skin just about perfect. Merlin smiled into his kiss, satisfied with himself no doubt for getting things started. Arthur tried to remember just where he might have stashed a vial of slick which he had taken to carrying on him at all times, reluctant to pull away from their kiss. He gasped as a wave of magic went right through him, straight to his cock, and Merlin pressed a cold glass bottle into his hand.

He didn’t need any further encouragement and wasted no time in tugging out the cork with his teeth. He spat it out before drawing himself away from Merlin to sit back on his heels as he poured the oil generously over his cock and between Merlin’s legs. He watched with satisfaction as it dripped down towards Merlin’s hole, until he was unable to resist the temptation to push a finger smoothly inside him, to make him groan. He pumped it in and out a few times, enjoying the quiet squelches, and the sight of his finger being drawn in soon after he’d pulled it out. Finally, he removed his finger, ready for more.

“Arthur!” protested Merlin. 

“Shh,” he said, surging forwards with a kiss.

He pressed Merlin’s knees against his chest, and using his free hand he guided his cock quickly inside, getting frustrated for a moment as he misjudged the angle and couldn’t force his way in. He pulled away and took a deep, calming breath, and then after the slight false start he tried again, this time sliding in with one long push.

Merlin’s head fell back against the blanket, his chin tipping up with a quiet gasp, and as Arthur caressed his long, lean neck with his lips, he congratulated himself on a job well done. He pressed Merlin into the mattress, stroking Merlin’s shoulders and reveling in the way that his muscles flexed as he reached out and grasped Arthur’s waist. 

As Arthur drove into Merlin with short, shallow thrusts, Merlin choked out his name, his voice echoing in Arthur’s ears. His hands traced over Arthur’s chest and neck until they reached his face, and as he cracked his eyes open, Arthur could see golden flecks glowing within their usual blue.

He pulled Arthur closer for a kiss, until they were as close as they could be in their current position. Arthur snaked his hand between them and gripped Merlin’s cock. 

“Merlin,” Arthur breathed against his lips, and Merlin groaned and arched in response as Arthur began to pump his hand.

Every motion of their lovemaking was slow and unhurried, both of them wanting to savour it and neither of them wanting it to end. As if their slow, gentle movements could make the moment last forever. Slowly but surely, as he continued to thrust, thrust, thrust, Arthur felt a familiar pool of warmth start to curl and twist in his belly. Merlin continued to kiss him, his fingers carefully mapping out every curve and angle of his cheeks and jaw. And with every touch, every caress, Arthur heard him loud and clear, because his heart felt the same, the love they shared growing exponentially with what could be their last time. 

He could feel the sparks of pleasure building between them, the air shimmering with the beginnings of Merlin’s magic. He worked his hand faster, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting all the way in again, and it was as though some kind of barrier had been breached as they both started to move quickly, rushing headlong into ecstasy, all mixed up with love and devotion and desperation. Merlin arched up beneath him, and Arthur captured his sharp cry with a kiss as Merlin came, wet and pulsing in his hand. Arthur came swiftly after as a wave of magic crashed over him, and he careened over the edge into a weightless void of pleasure that he never wanted to end.

When he came drifting back down to earth, he lay there, still on top of Merlin feeling his chest heave and his heart beating beneath his breast, still trembling from the intensity of it. He glanced up at Merlin’s face, his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess, looking beatified yet exhausted as he slid his arms around Arthur in a hug. Arthur sighed, feeling loved and warm and safe within them.

It wasn’t too much longer before Merlin was shoving him off with a grunt, wiping at the sticky mess on his belly with a grimace. Arthur laughed at the look of disgust on his face and pressed a kiss to those soft, plush lips. 

“Let’s get some sleep. A big day ahead of us tomorrow,” he said, the words hanging heavy between them.

“Please,” begged Merlin. “Let’s not think about it. Let’s just have this night.”


	11. Chapter 11

The battle had started off well. The night before, Morgana had received word of their whereabouts; a deliberate move on Arthur’s behalf to goad her into meeting them on Camelot’s terms, rather than her own, and thus giving them the first advantage. He knew that she would be unable to resist the chance to take him out, especially if she thought that he would be taken somewhat unawares. Arthur had been fully prepared to take on an army in their camp in the middle of the night, if need be, but thankfully they had awoken unmolested just before the morning sun crept up from the horizon, allowing them to take their favoured spot on the battlefield.

But things hadn’t remained in their favour for long, because Morgana’s men attacked them with fearsome force and speed. Many amongst them were sorcerers, and whereas Camelot had made the decision to group their magic users together, their enemy had chosen to intermingle them throughout their entire ranks, allowing them to assist others with their attacks or defend entire groups of men from harm at the same time. Camelot had never knowingly fought with magic on their side, and it showed. 

At the beginning of the fight, Merlin had drawn his sword, standing side by side with Arthur, attacking, slashing and stabbing anyone who came within his reach. Merlin was far from the best swordsman, especially in the heat of a battle, but having watched and trained with Arthur often over the years, he was not completely without skill. Beside him Arthur fought fiercely, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of Morgana.

It wasn’t long before they were completely surrounded by men, all fighting for their lives, each determined to be on the winning side, and Arthur could tell that he and his men would soon be overwhelmed and hopelessly outnumbered. But Arthur wasn’t a quitter and neither were his knights; they would fight with all their might until the very end. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin, who had been fighting beside him, drop suddenly to the ground, and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst.

He yelled some words Arthur didn’t understand, his voice barely carrying over the clash of swords, the yells of men and grunts of exertion, and then slammed his hand into the earth. The effect was instantaneous as all the men around them were flung off their feet, leaving them with space to move out and start a fresh wave of attacks. At that point, Merlin sheathed his sword and abandoned all attempts at traditional fighting. He glanced over at Arthur and gave him a small nod, and then they started to work together, Merlin wielding his magic with surprising proficiency, whether it be conjuring some kind of invisible shield to protect himself or Arthur from a wayward sword, or attacking and knocking back men with apparent ease.

They worked their way through the vast swarms of men around them, making gradual forward progress, which gave Arthur a surge of belief and hope that they might actually be able to win this. Together with his sword and Merlin’s magic, they made an indomitable force. Instinctively, they fell in sync with each other, and it became almost mechanical the way they cut through the soldiers that still dared to charge at them. Arthur’s knights, soon noticing their partnership, followed in their wake, mopping up the enemies that were still standing and defending their flanks.

It felt like they had been fighting forever. Arthur’s arms burned, screaming at him to stop and rest, but he hadn’t trained his entire life with a sword for nothing. He carried on fighting, slicing through flesh, metal clashing on metal and the stench of blood and death in his nostrils. He wondered briefly how Merlin must be faring, having never been in the midst of even a small battle before. He didn’t seem to slow or tire, performing spell after spell, heating swords, making men trip and using an unseen phyisical force to propel them away, seemingly simultaneously.

Above them came a loud screeching noise and a bellowing roar that sent everyone’s eyes skywards, and a white dragon swooped into the battlefield. Merlin flung his arms up, his eyes burning bright as the dragon’s mouth opened and bellowed out flames. The dragon let out a scream of frustration as the flames licked off Merlin’s protective barrier, and went to circle around for another pass. As it did so, Merlin climbed up onto a boulder set deep within the valley, and his voice boomed out across the vale, deep, dark and guttural.

_"Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai! Weas!"_

And then the dragon did the most peculiar thing: it pulled up from its dive in almost a reluctant manner, hovering above the battlefield long enough to let out a shrill howl directed at Merlin before it turned tail and flew away. Merlin jumped down from his perch to Arthur’s side, and Arthur was unable to resist hauling him close for a momentary kiss before, with the immediate threat gone, the battle began to rage once more.

They continued to fight, though Arthur noted that even Merlin was starting to flag a little. They both had little choice but to continue, however; as king of his people, Arthur would sooner drop dead of exhaustion than give up this fight. The idea of allowing Morgana victory was unthinkable. And then, as if his thoughts had conjured her, he noticed the men around them beginning to thin out, until he and Merlin were left standing there alone as Morgana emerged from the crowd.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my brother, _King_ Arthur, and his pathetic excuse for a manservant,” she spat. “Or at least, that’s what you let everyone think, didn’t you, _Merlin_? How you let me suffer all that time, thinking magic evil and a curse, when you could have _helped me_ because you had magic all along! 

“Hypocrite!” she screamed, curling her fists as her face turned dark. Then she rounded on Arthur, pointing at him. “As for you, you’re even worse. Hating magic and everything that it stood for, until your little boyfriend turned up and you decided to lift the ban for him! I’ll give you this, Merlin—you must be _fantastic_ shag!”

Arthur stepped forward at that. 

“Enough, Morgana!” he announced. “I lifted the ban on magic because it was the _right_ thing to do. And I know that it won’t fix all the things that I’ve done wrong, and it won’t bring back all those who lost their lives in the purge against magic, but it was the only correct choice I could make. It took me time, and yes, admittedly, knowing about Merlin did help with that, but I hope, given enough time, I would have come to the same conclusions alone. That my father — our father! — was wrong. About so many things, and I’m only coming to unlearn all those wrong ideals that were taught to me.

“Come on, Morgana. We were friends once, weren’t we? Camelot is now a place where those with magic can live freely. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Freedom and justice for all? There is still a place for you, you know. Your rooms, your possessions, they’re all still exactly as they were—”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you! Morgana coming back home all pitiful and meek, begging you for forgiveness. Coming back to play the good little girl as the Lady Morgana. I’d sooner _die_.”

Arthur shook his head and stabbed Excalibur into the blood-soaked ground. He held out his hand towards Morgana and slowly started to approach her.

“Morgana,” he said. “Hasn’t there been enough blood shed over this? Enough lives lost? When will it end? I want it to end today, without any more losses, without any more tragedy. Let’s end this now and you can take your rightful place as Princess Morgana Pendragon of Camelot—”

Morgana’s hand shot out and she hissed a few words, frowning with confusion and pushing her hand out again when the spell had no effect on him.

Merlin stood nearby, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“You!” Morgana shrieked, turning on him. She flung out her hand once more, screaming, _“Forbærne! Ácwele!”_

Arthur watched with horror as a ball of fire hurtled towards Merlin, but he stood firm, flinging both his hands out as he yelled back, _“Ástríce!”_ and it was deflected back towards her. 

She dismissed the spell with a wave of her hand, and all of a sudden it was an all out battle between the two of them. Spells were flung back and forth, neither Merlin nor Morgana seeming to be able to get one over on the other. Merlin held up a protective shield with one hand, deflecting all the spells Morgana flung at him as she grew increasingly more aggressive and irate, while he held his other hand over the ground and started to chant, producing an unmistakable whirlwind out of nowhere. He flung it towards Morgana, and it finally had the effect of knocking her off her feet. 

Arthur seized the moment of distraction to grab his sword and charged forward. But before he could get close enough, Morgana was back on her feet, a sword in her hand.

“Is that all your pet sorcerer can manage?” she spat at him, swiping at him with her sword. “A little bit of wind? It will take much more than that to defeat me. I am a Priestess of the Old Religion! _That_ is my title. Not Princess. Not Lady. And certainly not _Pendragon_. Though I do wish _Father Dearest_ could see me now, about to kill his heir and claim his kingdom for my own.”

She lunged suddenly, but Arthur blocked her, not even needing to think about it due to years and years of training. 

“I don’t want to fight you, Morgana,” he told her, continuing to parry and deflect as she rained attacks down on him. Finally, she flicked his sword out of his hand with a particularly skilled movement and advanced on him, holding the tip of her sword to his throat.

“Surrender!” she commanded. “Surrender, and I won’t spare your life, nor your little plaything’s, but I’ll spare the rest of them. Your _precious people_.”

Arthur slowly raised his chin and stared her straight in the eye. “Never.”

Morgana screamed and moved to strike with her sword. Suddenly, she made a shocked, choking sound and both she and Arthur looked down with wide eyes to see Excalibur impaling her chest. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Merlin standing there, eyes still golden and arm outstretched.

Morgana let out a hollow laugh as she tried to yank the sword out. 

“You—you think that a simple sword could kill me?” She staggered as she removed Excalibur and pressed her hand over the wound. “It will take more than that, Merlin!”

Merlin shook his head sadly. “Excalibur is no mortal sword,” he told her. “It was forged in a dragon’s breath.”

“No!” Morgana exclaimed, swaying on her feet. “No, that can’t— How did you…?” 

She started to fall, and Merlin and Arthur both surged forward to catch her. Arthur cradled her head in his lap as Merlin took her hand in his.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Merlin said, tears gathering in his eyes. “I never wanted it to end this way. But you left us with no choice.”

Arthur smoothed his hand lovingly through her hair as he looked down at her, her face suddenly softened and so much like the old Morgana, that he too began to tear up at the memory of the girl she had once been. The girl he had grown up with. 

“Arthur,” she gasped, her eyes big and frightened as she struggled for breath. “Arthur, I…”

She stilled in his arms, having breathed her last breath. Drops of water fell on her face as Arthur pressed a kiss to her forehead. Merlin’s breath hitched, and he started to speak, foreign words spilling shakily from his lips. He placed his hand over Morgana’s face and closed her eyes. When he was done, he sat back on his heels, and they both stared at the body of the woman who had once been their friend, their family, now free from the hatred that had plagued her during her life.

Clear that Merlin was done with his ritual—presumably some kind of prayer of the Old Religion—Arthur slowly got to his feet, sniffling and swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. It smeared splattered blood across his face, and he turned to face his troops who were still fighting with Morgana’s men.

“Camelot!” he yelled, but his voice did not carry far enough. Merlin stood up next to him and beckoned him close. He pressed a hand to Arthur’s throat and muttered a spell. Magic tingled across Arthur’s skin, and when he next spoke, his voice boomed out across the valley. 

“Camelot! Morgana Gorlois Pendragon, Priestess of the Old Religion, is dead. Victory is ours!” A cheer rang out around them from all areas of the battlefield, reassuring Arthur that the casualties from this war might not be as bad as he had initially feared. “Saxons, I advise you all to either flee now or prepare to surrender to my men and come quietly. Those who do will be treated with leniency. Those who do not will be dealt with accordingly. These are the rules of war, and we will abide by them.”

There was a mad scramble on the battlefield as Saxon men started to run in all directions. Arthur fervently hoped that most of them escaped. Having prisoners of war was a huge responsibility which would be a strain on Camelot’s already limited resources, and then there would be negotiations to be had from whomever would take over Morgana’s army now she was gone. They would care for the injured, of course, unlike some other kingdoms, which would simply ensure that everyone who lay injured was killed for being on the losing side. But they could do without the extra burden of so many men, regardless of the leverage that prisoners of war would give them.

As the battlefield started to grow calmer, Arthur looked over at Merlin, every part of him aching and tired now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

***

It was late, or perhaps it was very early in the morning when Arthur awoke suddenly from his sleep. He reached out to feel for the solid, reassuring presence of his manservant and his heart skipped a beat when he found the right side of the bed empty. He quickly sat up and tried to gather his thoughts. Where was Merlin? Had he been captured, attacked? Was he lying somewhere injured or worse, dead, as some soldiers amongst their ranks decided to mete out their own form of justice to express their disapproval of magic?

Arthur wasn’t stupid. He knew that many in Camelot were angry about his decision to revoke the ban, and he had noticed how people shrank away from Merlin as they walked back to camp, exhausted after the battle where he had revealed his magic in such a dramatic fashion. They had recoiled from them in a way that was completely different than the way they usually parted to make way for their king, and Arthur knew that Merlin had felt the rejection deeply. 

The roundtable knights had gradually found them, gathering close as they walked, patting Merlin on the back and praising him, but the damage had already been done. Arthur threw the back the covers and hurried to haul on a pair of breeches. He had to find Merlin, and fast. He pushed the tent flap open and felt a wave of relief flood through him when he spotted a forlorn figure wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a log by the fire.

Their tent was rather further away from the rest of the camp, to give Arthur the space and privacy that came with being king. He knew from past campaigns that his men were sleeping and camping in much closer quarters. The morning was clear, but still very early, as evidenced by the sliver of light on the horizon, and the rest of the camp was eerily quiet. So quiet that Arthur could hear the cracking of the fire that Merlin was sat by. He shuddered as a breeze blew through the trees, reminding him that winter had not long passed, and hurried over to Merlin and the fire, longing for warmth.

“Hey,” he said as he took a seat next to him.

Merlin looked over at him and smiled, his face still showing the traces of grime and dirt from the battle. “Hey,” he replied softly, looking into the fire.

“Y-you s-scared me, when I woke up and you weren’t there…” Arthur said, fighting against the chill that almost made his teeth chatter.

“Sorry,” Merlin apologised, his voice distant. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Arthur watched him closely, wondering what was going through his mind as Merlin heaved a sigh and fiddled with his hands.

He reached over and placed his own hand on top of Merlin’s, giving it a squeeze. Merlin startled at his touch.

“Arthur, you should have put more clothes on. You’re freezing. Come on.” Merlin opened his blanket, and Arthur moved closer.

“S-says you,” he stammered, and wickedly ran cold fingers along Merlin’s warm skin, along his thigh and up his side.

Merlin squirmed. “Oi!”

Arthur settled down and pulled Merlin close to him, draping an arm around him to share body-heat.

“It will get better, you know.”

Merlin hummed in response.

“I know it’s hard right now, and that there are some people who are… less than accepting. But it won’t be like that forever. People will come to welcome and accept magic with time. There are people who are already happy to have magic return to the kingdom, and people who are really your friends won’t treat you any differently.”

“I know, but it’s the others that I worry about. People like Sir Caridoc. There are so many people who are afraid of magic, and having seen what people can do with it—what I can do with it, what Morgana did with it—I don’t blame them.”

Arthur brushed his lips against Merlin’s exposed shoulder. “But you’ve done so much good with yours. You brought peace at last. Morgana can no longer do people harm, and we can finally build a kingdom that is fair and just for all.”

Merlin sighed. “I’d like that. I really would.”

“It will happen. I promise you.”

Then Merlin laughed. “You know, it is said that we have a destiny together. That it is written that we will bring about a golden age, a bringing together of the old and the new. Gaius calls it the age of Albion.”

“Written, huh?” asked Arthur, feeling a little smug. “You’ll have to show me. And since it _is_ written down, then it must be true and you have nothing to worry about.” 

“It’s not always as simple as that. Destinies… can be troublesome things.”

Pressing a kiss to the back of Merlin’s neck, Arthur murmured his agreement. “I have one of the most troublesome things right here. The most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth, who refuses to be my court sorcerer. Will you take the role now? It will look rather odd that Gaius be my advisor after what you did today. You almost won the whole battle single handed.”

Merlin made a dismissive noise. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m serious. So?” Arthur prompted.

Looking at him out of the corner of his eye, the corner of his lips lifting, Merlin said casually, “Might as well, I guess.”

“You might as well!” Arthur sputtered. “I’ll have you know Court Sorcerer is a position of great honour! You know what, on second thought, maybe you shouldn’t have it. Gaius would at least have the dignity required.”

“If you make him wear as awful a hat as you made me wear, I can’t see that there’d be much dignity required anyhow,” said Merlin with amusement.

“Which is why you’d be perfect for it,” Arthur replied with a grin, tickling Merlin’s side until he was laughing, too. “That’s better.”

They sat there together, huddled up, both watching the flames. 

“Things will be fine, I promise. I can feel it,” said Arthur determinedly. He was ready to work hard to ensure this was the case. 

He kissed Merlin on the jaw and Merlin’s cheeks dimpled. He turned his head and gave Arthur a slow, gentle kiss. Arthur walked his fingers up Merlin’s thigh, then urged him to lift his leg and shift positions into his lap. Merlin obliged, wrapping the blanket around them both and looping his arms around Arthur’s neck.

“You were amazing today—or rather, yesterday now—in the battle,” he told Merlin, rubbing Merlin’s nose with his own as he wrapped an arm around Merlin’s waist and stroked his belly lightly with the other.

“Mm, we made a good team.”

“Better than good,” Arthur told him. “I don’t think I realised just how good you’d be on the battlefield. I shouldn’t have underestimated you. As Court Sorcerer, I want you to train and teach the other magic users. And I want you to help us utilise magic in our battle plans in the future, should we need it.”

“But I’ve never taught anyone in my life I wouldn’t even—”

“Shh,” said Arthur, capturing his lips to silence his protest. His free hand crept further south and his fingers curled around Merlin’s cock, already half-hard, which grew thicker in his hand. 

He wasted no time in starting to pump his hand. “It’s not difficult, Merlin,” he continued, as he nibbled at Merlin’s neck, Merlin tilting his head with a groan. “You’ve watched me training the knights often enough.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t really watching your teaching methods,” complained Merlin.

“You’re easily teachable, I’m sure you’ll pick it up,” Arthur said as he slid his hand up Merlin’s back, so soft and smooth and then guided one of Merlin’s hands into his breeches. Merlin wasted no time drawing out Arthur’s cock and he started to jerk him off. “See? Teaching is just a matter of giving your subject the right direction and good motivation. Though, admittedly, you’re a fast learner. And you’ve always been eager to please me.”

Merlin made a little growl of annoyance and nipped at Arthur’s lips, but he didn’t deny it. 

“So it’s settled then? You’ll be Court Sorcerer and teach the others?” Arthur enquired, utilising his finest technique that had Merlin biting back a groan and digging the fingers of his free hand into Arthur’s shoulder.

“Ugh, ah—! Yes, yes. Fine. H—have it your way,” Merlin groused. 

He pressed his forehead to Arthur’s, panting heavily and keeping his moans as quiet as he could. The possessive part of Arthur longed to make him louder, so that everyone in the camp would hear. But the rational part of him knew that it would be unwise. There would be plenty of time for that back at the castle. He’d leveraged the promise he’d wanted out of Merlin, finally, and he was plenty satisfied with that. He pumped his hand along Merlin’s length and flicked his wrist as he came to the head in a way that he knew drove Merlin crazy. Merlin choked and splattered his release, hot and wet on Arthur’s chest. Arthur followed soon after. 

He smiled, still breathless, as he kissed Merlin’s hair and held him close, watching as the sun rose on a new day and a new beginning for Camelot.


End file.
